


Peculiar.

by delibell



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adventure, Angst, F/M, Fanfiction, Fic, Fluff, Gryffindor, HP - Freeform, Harry Potter - Freeform, Hogwarts, Hufflepuff, Humor, Love, Mermaids, Pre-Movie 1: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, Ravenclaw, Romance, Slytherin, Teen Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-23
Updated: 2017-02-26
Packaged: 2018-09-01 18:59:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 34,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8634205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/delibell/pseuds/delibell
Summary: An aloof, though kind, Gryffindor Quidditch player with an attention span that of a gold fish catches the eye of one extremely shy Hufflepuff that promises her to show all of Hogwarts's magical creatures in an attempt to show off.





	1. Child-like Wonder.

Year six rolled up faster than you could have ever imagined. Pacing through the big doors of the Great Hall was enough to leave you breathless once more as your eyes, still twinkling with that same childlike wonder that didn’t leave you over the years, gazed upwards into the clear ceiling full of stars and hoovering candles. The scent of baked goods pulled you and your tight-knit friends closer and closer to your desired seats by the Gryffindor table. Some, who hadn’t greeted you on the train, waved and popped closer to say hello before moving back to sit with their friends. Your big group, mainly consisting of Quidditch players, was the loudest of them all and you happily joined in the rumble before the first years arrived. It was just like last year – Kevin Quill was still grinning from ear to ear and fixing his notorious shabby hair, Eveline de’Bach was batting her lashes at the star Beater Leroy Ambrose, Brendon Clein was playing with the silverware and whining about how hungry he was and that his new nutritious diet his family had forced him to follow at home was to be broken ‘as soon as the food appears’. You laughed, a happy grin pinching your cheeks so that they turned a light shade of pink. Soon though you became bored with staring at familiar faces and without the stress of O.W.L.’s riding on your back you found yourself empty of topics. So you decided to listen. Listen to adventures of Sonna Day, who broke her leg during the summer break on a bad broom accident, or to Clarence Shaw, who insisted that his toad ate his cat. Such peculiar stories were always fascinating and exciting tones were more than enough to shake the light fog of exhaustion around you, but you still found your head resting in your palm, (colour) eyes hopping from one place to another as if trying to memorize each face in the Great Hall.

Unbeknownst to you, you weren’t the only one getting a bit bored of conversations. Newton was doing the exact same thing, but his perspective was much different – he didn’t have a group of Hufflepuff’s scooted around him chatting his ear off about tales that may or may not be true. Instead he sat alone, next to some friendly sixth year boy that he was an acquaintance with. He carried a book with him at all times just in case such situations arose, but even if his fingers twitched in anticipation to learn more about Dragonflies, he figured the ceremony was about to begin and that excluding himself would be rude. Not that anyone payed any mind to him. Living in Theseus shadow for so long has taught him a trick or two. His magnificent green eyes were drawn in by the loud roar from the Gryffindor table, where Leroy was describing just how he stopped that pesky Bludger from hitting a fellow Keeper. Normally, Newt wouldn’t pay two cents to this elaborate conversation, but something, more like _someone_ , drew his eyes and he couldn’t look away.

The dazzling light of stars shone in her (colour) eyes as she gazed at the standing male showing off his moves, her hands suited for clapping but they weren’t spurring yet. A smile twitched on her lips, so big and bright that it made all else fade around her. The wild (colour) hair only magic could tame was boxing her face in, making those clear features stand out even more. Newt recognized her immediately – (Name) (Lastname), the Seeker. How strange…how come he never noticed you in such a way before? Sure, he has heard of you and yes he has seen you causing a ruckus, but never did he take the time to examine and admire you. He visibly gulped.

It felt like an arrow was shot when those eyes connected with his, the smile dimming ever so slightly from happy to lovely and Newt found the change much more appealing. Your gaze fixated him, made it almost hard to breathe. A newly found fascination with that confident, albeit gentle, perhaps even aloof, aura reached him all the way to his table. The spark only died down when the doors flew open and a stream of nervous first years flooded the hall.

Your cheeks finally cooled as you and your group reached the Main Staircase, idly chatting with some housemates you ignored the tingle on the back of your neck from being watched. It wasn’t that big of a deal after all – you had eyes on you at all times. _Only one of the many pluses of being on the Quidditch team_ was what you told to anyone who cared enough to listen. Your enthusiasm died down gradually, as catching a case with some Hufflepuff’s you pulled away from conversation to admire the waving paintings. You waved ‘hello’ to some back, grinning and winking at a couple of first years that awed at the sight. Their small hands latched onto the railing and they swayed when it took an unexpected turn. On cue, the rest sighed. Irritation picked at your throat – these stairs were as unpredictable as always! Pushing away from the railing and calming down a shaken up first year with a gentle pat on the shoulder, you turned your head just in time to catch a glimpse of the fiery haired boy you locked gazes with during the ceremony. Something clicked in your memory _– isn’t that…?_ You blinked, stupidly at that, recalling the name of Newt Scamander and his peculiar interests in magical creatures. The said boy himself hopped off on the tenth floor along with two Hufflepuff’s, not saying a word or even glancing in your direction.

The rest of the night was spent celebrating a new start in Hogwarts.

Morning came quick and you barely rolled out of bed. With sheets still intact you pressed them closer to your body, despite the room being pleasantly warm. Your feet tingled when they landed on the cool floor. Cracking a sleepy (colour) eye open you lazily greeted some still sleeping girl friends of yours before you clumsily moved to the trunk near your bed to take out your uniform and prepare for the day. It was still dark behind the window, but before long sunrise broke.

Outside was cold. Stumbling, you caught your long robe and held onto it tightly sprinting past flower pots and archers, lastly taking a shortcut through the gardens. You halted, surprised, nearly tumbling face first onto an unlucky male that just so happened to appear in your path at the wrong time. As you stopped yourself your broom slipped out your fingers and hit the ground harshly.

“ ** _No_**!” You yelped, grasping the slick wooden surface, “M-my baby!- _gasp_ \- I’m so _so_ sorry!” your voice was riddled with heated breaths and genuine feelings before your eyes sparked with fire and you sent a fierce glare at the stunned boy just inches away from you, “ _Oi_!” you started, “What the hell is y—“ your voice died down as you noted the familiar happy yellow colours and a badger staring back at you. Tilting your head upwards you saw a flustered face of Newt Scamander offering you a polite though strained smile. You relaxed (if you had bumped into a Slytherin, it may had ended differently). “Sorry, I–… _Sorry._ ” You repeated, “I wasn’t looking. Was in a hurry!” Only now did you notice reddening tip of his nose as the faint stream of blood that started to leak. Your hairs stood on end, “O-Oh… _Oh Merlin_! I’m **so** sorry! I was hurrying! I wasn’t looking!”

“…I could tell.”

You grinned, which took him aback, “That obvious, huh?” It was a genuine question, either that or you were more sarcastic than he imagined. Your eyes betrayed you, though, as they shone from the morning colours and that small fire of determination grew with each passing second. You huffed, the broom safely in your fingers before your shoulders tensed, the grin wiped clean “I’ll make it up to you! _Promise_! Please get that checked! I don’t think I broke it–did _I break it_? Does it hurt?” your tone was starting to annoy his ears, and whether you realized it or not you were standing on your tippy-toes and inching closer to inspect the damage. Anxious, Newt took a step back, making you falter, “Oh, my bad…” You gulped, standing straight. Your cheeks started to heat and glancing down you inspected your shoes for a moment before a new wave of energy hit you and you looked up to him, “Get that checked before breakfast, okay?” You insisted. He nodded, dumbly. You smiled, “I have to go! I’m so sorry, again–…maybe I should stay?” You seemed to hesitate, “ _No… more harm than good_ …” that sentence was definitely meant for yourself, “Later!” you announced suddenly, giving him one last somewhat awkward grin before dashing past him.

 _What … strange girl_ , Newt thought, hissing when the pain started to get worse.

The rest of the day he strode with a white bandage adoring his nose and only Leta cared enough to ask why. The school either didn’t care or found it highly amusing. He could see you shimmering around, mainly in a hurry and nearly losing your damn mind about Quidditch. He even stumbled upon you talking to yourself. It wasn’t anything ornate, just gasps of ‘ _Oh Merlin_!’ and ‘ _You can do this, (Lastname), just like last year. Just…just catch that Snitch_ ’. The last class of the afternoon was _Care of Magical Creatures_ , his favourite, and as the bell rang for the first time that day he felt excitement spur in his chest. His long strides carried him quick, Leta barely managed to keep up. After a couple of minutes breathless he plopped down onto the dewy grass. The sun shone brightly, students were only pilling in when he and his only friend already had their things out and eagerly discussing the new project she was working on. Newt smiled. Perhaps this day wasn’t so bad after all.

“ _Oh bloody_ –…I don’t know what the elves are feeding their table, but they need to _stop_.” One Slytherin said, sending a nasty look at the approaching Gryffindor’s, “They’re completely bonkers, and it’s only the start of the year!”

“Well, (Lastname) was off her rocket since she joined.” Another hissed, “Filthy mud-blood.” Newt flinched at the insult, even if it wasn’t directed at him. He glanced at the sour students to his right – did they really despise such an aloof, seemingly harmless, girl for no reason? The idea of you being called such names left a bitter taste in his mouth.

“Oi! Shut your trap, will you, (Lastname)? Your piggish voice can be heard all the way in London.”

“Sod off, Greyson.” You fired back, “You’re still bitter because I caught the Snitch.”

“No, I’m bitter because you’re a nuisance.”

Your cheeks dyed themselves a bright red. Your housemates soon stepped into your aid as some girl led you away since you were already rolling up your sleeves – would you actually fight? _That would be amusing to see_ , Newt thought, and his green irises trailed you. Suddenly, you glanced in his direction. He gulped. You offered a small, apologetic smile once you noted the bandage on his nose. A ghost of a smile twitched on his lips.

He was watching you again, forgetting to take notes as he admired the small loving smile as you played with a Bowtruckle that clung to your fingers as if its life depended on it. Leta’s palms clasped around the small creature and bringing it closer to her face she examined the mischievous grin the Bowtuckle was giving her, “Hey…Newt…” She called, softly. The boy didn’t make a peep. She glanced over the twig, finding the parchment in his lap empty, “Newt!” Her voice rose in tone and the taller male twitched, snapping his head to her with a nervous look in his eyes.

“…Yes?”

“Were you even listening?”

“Of course I was. You were telling me about Bowtruckle qualities.” He replied nonchalantly.

“But you didn’t write anything down.”

“And you of all people know that I don’t need to.”

Leta sighed, yanking the paper with an annoyed look in her eye and pushing the Bowtruckle into his hands. Newt raised a brow, “You talk. I write.” That seemed to satisfy him. He turned away from his companion again, unconsciously or not, his fingers playing and caressing the soft and warm creature in his hands. It wasn’t hard to find you, only this time you were looking right back. He froze. You waved. Newt shakily looked away.

“The-The Bowtruckle can be found in _the_ …” he flipped the pages of his tomb, “ _in_ western England, Germany, and certain Scandinavian forests. It’s- _uhm-_ it serves as a tree guardian—“

“Newton, are you okay?”

“—but usually only  trees that are wand quality.” He continued, “The twig-like fingers are well adapted for digging out wood lice in trees…Are you writing this down?”

“No!” Leta fired up, but before she could speak Newt cut her off.

“And you critique me.” He mumbled, glancing down that the Bowtruckle. He smiled at him, letting its small twig hands latch onto his finger. The creature swung. Newt’s smile fell. His eyes wandered from the Bowtruckle to his robe and back. Then at Leta. She raised a brow. “Do you think Madam Pouch will notice?”

“If you snatch it?” Leta clarified. “…Will you keep it in your suitcase?”

“Yes….No. _Maybe_. I don’t know. You see, Leta, they need proper care. Just look at this one. He clings to you so tightly…They need love and attention, without it they get depressed. Bowtruckle’s are very sensitive…” his voice grew into a whisper, “This one may be the weird one out.” He looked at her, “I don’t think Madam Pouch will mind if we borrow it. Permanently. Do you?” Leta bit down a grin and shook her head. With a nod Newt casually placed the Bowtruckle into his pocket.

When the bell rung Newt and Leta packed their things quick, but you were quicker. You appeared in front of them, a friendly grin on your face as your irises jumped from one surprised face to another. You focused on the bandage, guilt itching at the back of your throat. Newt blushed from your intense gaze, “I just…” you started, quite awkward at that, “wanted to make sure you got that treated. I see you did.” Newt only nodded. “Uhm, we haven’t met properly yet.” Your voice turned chipper and you extended your hand for him to shake, “(Name) (Lastname). Seeker. Pleasure.” As if only now snapping out what ever daze was in, Newt nervously clamped his hand over yours. The contact was short lived as he only murmured his name and let go, profusely looking down. Leta watched this exchange with interest, murmuring a ‘See you later, okay?’ and excusing herself. You sent her a friendly smile. “She’s your friend, right?” you started talking, seeing as he made no move to engage you. “I only really ever see you with her. You must be close.” You observed. Newt nodded, his head still hung low. “You aren’t much of a talker either, I see. It’s okay, I don’t mind.”

“W-Why don’t you?” It was the first real sentence he had spoken to you and your heart fluttered. You could see the tips of his ears turn bright pink and surpassing a giggle you shook your shoulders.

“Some say I talk for two.” You told, stepping past him and motioning for him to follow you. Obedient, he did. His long strides soon proved to be a hassle to catch up with – sweat broke out your pores and you huffed in a breath. “I think they’re right.” You added, light-hearted. Newt was still staring at his shoes, his eyes sometimes snapping to catch a glimpse of you before he’d shyly look away. “You know…” You pushed closer to him, breaking the silence, “I saw you. Taking that… _Uhm_ , that…Bow-Bowtruckle! _Bowtruckle_!” As if hit by lightning his red face twisted in shock as he scanned the area to see if anyone, especially Madam Pouch, overheard. “I won’t tell!” You reassured, “I just…couldn’t help but notice.”

“…Follow me.” Newt’s voice was soft and quiet. He suddenly spun on his heel and made way down the yard in a surprising fast pace as you eagerly tumbled after him. After many twists and turns he finally plopped down next to the Lake. Cool ripples of wind picked on your heated skin from the water. Peaking over Newt’s shoulder you audibly gasped when he took out the small green creature out of his pocket with such care and affection you couldn’t help but grin. His head then tilted to you, finding your faces barely inches away. Your breath hitched. From this close you could clearly see those that beautiful light skin kissed by a thousand freckles, his marvelous green eyes wide in surprise but still mesmerizing. “The- _The-The-The_ Bowt- _truc_ kle is normally a peaceful _c-_ creature t _h_ -“ He flinched when your attention shot from him to the twig like organism, your fingers swooping it from his grasp. It all happened so fast he barely managed to keep up. He soon found you sitting next to him, that same childlike wonder in your eyes sparkling brighter than the sun.

“I’m muggle born, you see.” You explained, the pad of your fingertip caressing its glossy surface. The Bowtruckle grinned, closing its eyes to savour the feeling, “I still can’t…even after six years I still…I still find myself amazed, you know? It’s all so…breath-taking. Especially the beasts…I’ve only seen some wild animals at the zoo, but they are…they’re _nothing_ compared to this…”

A pleasant silence settled, one he had the sudden urge to break. He wasn’t sure what made him want to speak – perhaps it was the dream like look you carried with you, one many students don’t anymore, or because you called a Bowtruckle _breath-taking_ , when most just labelled it cute or gross and lost interest – but he did so without hesitation, “Let me show you , then.” A smile twitched onto his face, “There are…there are _hundreds_ of magical creatures in Hogwarts.”

“Are you serious?”

“Completely.” He nodded, “Fairies, Gnomes, Unicorns, Centaurs, Glumbumble’s—“ he seemed to come alive with each word that left his mouth, and before you knew it his hands started flying around to show his enthusiasm, “-Merpeople—“

“ ** _Mermaids_**?!” You gasped.

“Well, we call them _Merpeople_ , but mermaid’s works too.” He wasn’t sure why the thought of ‘mermaids’ brought you so much joy. His mood lifted along with yours, the invisible restraints and walls he had built around him slowly crumbling as the two of you bonded over his one and only passion – magical creatures. He started explaining, anything, _everything_ , in such a fast pace you had to keep your breath locked, afraid to miss even a smidge of information. He even jumped a few times when he got too excited, which quickly ended up in him being embarrassed and you laughing loudly at his bright red face. When he was about to tell you about how different the Merpeople are, thought, that’s when the mood suddenly changed, even the pleasant warm air cleared making him shudder. Your face turned grim and you nearly squashed the Bowtruckle that latched onto your pinky.

“ _Quidditch_!!!” You screeched, pushing the Bowtruckle into his hands and clumsily grabbing your book-bag you bolted. Newt stared.

“W-wait! ( _Name_ )! You forgot your…wand.”


	2. Breaking the rules.

Newt shuffled to the Quidditch pitch in a couple of minutes with your wand in tack and that Bowtruckle, one he named Pickett, hiding in his pocket. As he moved in to find a seat he saw you hoovering in the air – your hair was a mess again, the bright red cloak fluttering in the wind as you held onto the length of your broom tightly. Awkwardly, he sat down in the Hufflepuff lodge and glanced around for any more spectators – there were a few Gryffindor’s cheering for some kid to make it into the team. Newt gulped, his eyes wandering to the foreign wand between his fingers – should he wait to return it? Or should he simply just leave it somewhere? He’d be lying if avoiding conversing with you would leave him feeling a bit empty. He was almost impatient, tapping his foot on the wooden floorboards as his eyes followed your floating form with a small smile on his lips - your back arched gracefully as you, for a minute, let go of the broom to fix your leather gloves. You were still oblivious to his existence.

 

A brilliant idea popped into his mind and quickly pulling out his wand he muttered a spell. A string of blue sparks jumped out the end, and deep in his mind Newt whispered a ‘Hello’. He jerked when you nearly jumped off your broom, it going down a few levels since you lost focus.

 

‘What the—‘ he could hear you from the other end, smiling sheepishly when your head snapped in his direction. You shot back to the norm, ignoring a teammate who asked if you were alright, ‘Newt! You showed up—wait, what are you doing inside my head?’

 

‘Communication spell. Professor Alstein taught us last year.’

 

‘I reserve Charms for napping.’ Was your witty reply and he could faintly see a smile brimming your lips, ‘I’m glad you showed up, though. I guess I freaked you out a bit because I ran off so suddenly…’

 

‘I – _uh_ \- actually came here to return your wand.’ At his words, he raised the slim Chestnut wand into the air and you shot to him like a bullet. Barely managing to stop, you knocked him over from his seat as he desperately tried to avoid a boot to the face. Swiftly, you caught your wand.

 

“Thanks!” You said as Newt clumsily lifted himself off the ground, rubbing the back of his head where it painfully stung, “Also, knock it with the mind telephone. I forgot how dizzy it makes me…Oh! And…cheer for me please!” You told, nervously, “I’m a bit…” You glanced to the Quidditch players, “There’s this new boy…he’s really fast and he wants to be a Seeker so…--“ You inhaled, “hex him if you think he’ll take my place, okay?”

 

“W-what?”

 

“Thanks, you’re the best, seriously!”

 

…In the end, Newton didn’t have to raise his wand since you won fair and square. That or you just figured out other ways to mess with the kids broom unnoticed. Either way, the poor lad fell from twenty feet but didn’t break anything. Newt first suspected that it was your doing, but the worried look on your face betrayed your innocents. Though the sneaky look in your eyes didn’t yield his suspicion…

 

 

Once dinner time hit he couldn’t help but ignore the food on his plate. Not that he wasn’t hungry, just distracted. His evergreen irises scanned the page of his book, briefly shooting to the roaring Gryffindor table that was congratulating their new Quidditch team. You were among those people, eagerly chatting with one of your friends and drinking pumpkin juice. Newt couldn’t help the small grin that twitched onto his lips ever so often. Realizing he had read the same line perhaps twenty times now, he shut the book and set it beside him.

On the other side of the hall you noted Newt finally stop reading and muttering, ‘Be back in a jiffy!’ to the girl by your side, you hopped off your seat and rushed to the Hufflepuff table. Curious glances from some housemates followed your back, and offering a grin to everyone who met your gaze you loudly said an ‘Excuse me!’ before forcefully pushing two Hufflepuff’s apart and sitting in the middle. Newt was directly in front of you. His shoulders jolted once he realized you were here, a questioning look forming on his face but he didn’t have time to ask any questions, “So I was thinking,” you started, leaning in, “about you.” Newt blinked, “and about what you said. You know,” Your hair was teetering just a smidge above a bowl of mash potatoes, “ _mermaids_!” you whispered harshly, your eyes shooting to the teacher table as if they could hear you from all the way here, then back at him, “Would you really take me to see them?” For a split second he was lost of words, his mind still insisting on playing he ‘I was thinking about you’ on repeat.

“Y-yes, w-well,” Newt fiddled with the silverware, collecting his stray thoughts. Clearing his throat he continued, “I promised to do so and I will. I just didn’t think you would be so interested.”

“Not be so interested?!” You gasped, almost offended, “Newt, these are mermaids we’re talking about! _Mermaids!”_ You stressed.

“I completely understand, just you approach was so…sudden…Though I must warn you seeing them will be tricky and extremely dangerous since their colony resides at the bottom of the Black Lake.” His jaw tensed. He wasn’t looking at you, “W-would you really take the risk?”

“How deep exactly is the Black Lake?” At your question, his gaze locked with yours.

“ _Very_ , I’m afraid.”

You grinned, leaning out, “It’s decided then! We’re going tonight!”

“T-tonight?”

“Meet me by the library at 10pm. sharp, you hear me? I must go…Borrow some things. Won’t be long.” You told, standing up, “Oh! And another thing…you ready to get expelled?” Newt grinned.

“Was ready for five years, actually.”

~*~

You ran through the halls avoiding all teacher’s that just so happened to stumble in at the wrong place at the right time, sometimes hiding behind statues and getting disapproving looks from portraits but they didn’t say a thing. You held onto your broom – you had to get above the river somehow – and a box full of firestock candy. You assumed the water was freezing, plus eating these snacks on a normal basis would most likely cause a fever. You waited patiently as professor Alstein passed, humming under his breath, and bolted down the hallway taking a sharp turn to the left and passing through a door. The lights were dimmed here and in the distance you could see the faint figure of Newt Scamander nervously tapping his foot as he sat on the stone steps leading to the library. His shoulders twitched and he snapped his head in your direction as you approached him with a smile, in one swoop he was back on his feet and stalking to you.

“Did I keep you waiting?” You asked, stopping to catch your breath.

“N-no, I just arrived.” Newt offered a smile. You shoved the pack of firestock into his hands and he blinked, “I was going to suggest using a charm to keep us warm, but I suppose candy will do just as good.”

“Did you pack your swimsuit?”

“…No.”

“Me neither!” You grinned, “I guess clothes will be good enough. No time to go back now.”

“Well, we could simply come back another time. The merpeople aren’t going to disappear.”

You frantically shook your head, “ _No no_! I’ve been waiting the whole day for this! We can’t go back now—“your voice was interrupted by a creaking that indicated the door you came from was sliding open. Your vision flashed red and before you knew it you grabbed Newt by the arm and bolted to the other side, gliding down the stairwell and rushing into a different hall that was empty. You didn’t stop running though, tugging him along through all sorts of shortcuts and passageways that led the two of you outside quicker.

Once you felt the cool breeze caressing your hair that’s when you let go of him and pretended not to notice him rubbing his wrist – your grip was probably too tight. The adrenaline rush gradually died down as huffing the two of you struggled to get down a hill unseen – no teacher seemed to be lurking about, but one may never be too careful. The faint flares of torches were lost behind your back and as you and him started to make your way down the stone steps that led to the docks. Your feet hurt. Your face itched from sweat. The lasting summer heat rattled your body and unconsciously you loosened the tie around your neck, glancing at Newt to see how he was holding up – not much better. The only sounds were the hooks of owls and quiet footsteps along with heavy breathing that gradually slowed down.

Newt broke the silence, “May I ask?” You nodded, “Why did you insist on meeting up so late?” You offered him a sheepish smile.

“I…made the Quidditch team…” you told happily, “You know how Gryffindor’s are… I had to stay and entertain them for a bit. They wouldn’t have let me go otherwise.” Newt nodded, though he couldn’t emphasize with you. After all, he didn’t have any friends. Looking at you he only now fully realized that you were from a completely different world, yet the two of you clicked so nicely. He felt his cheeks heat from his own thoughts, his stomach suddenly ticklish when your presence became painfully obvious. “Sorry if I…said something wrong.”

“W-what? No, no, I was merely curious.” He replied, his green irises catching the outline of the Boat House. He grew more and more conflicted as the two of you approached the dark waters you were soon to submerge into. Nervously his fingers tattered, fiddling with his sleeve before his irises travelled to the far away spot lit by moonlight and back to the bubbly female next to him. He could tell you were excited – even in the shade your eyes sparkled like scarabs, a note of joy riddling your melodious voice when you spoke, whilst your hands gripped the broom tightly. You didn’t even try to bite down the grin that rose once only a couple of flights of stairs were left to concur. Newt gulped. The realization that he was about to aimlessly jump into the **_Black Lake_** to ogle at some mermaids became poisonous and he felt himself freeze up – but it wasn’t getting hurt he was terrified of. It was hurting you he feared. He glanced at you and wondered if you fully understood just how stupidly dangerous this was. Putting you, his new friend, in life threatening danger was the last thing he wanted.

Your footsteps echoed on the dock as you stalked to the Boat House in a rushed pace, hardly containing yourself. In the dark you managed to grab around and find some boxed to store your and his excess things. You set the broom down, taking your cloak off and sighing relieved – finally, you weren’t as hot. Only then did you notice Newt standing on the last step, his worried expression lit by the pale moon. Your smile died down, “Is everything alright?” You asked, quietly.

“Are you sure you want to do this, (Name)?”

You neatly folded the black robe and put it in a box, re-thinking his question before replying with a firm ‘Yes’. Your ears picked up his frantic footsteps and before you knew it he was right next to you.

“I am aware, yes, but…I believe you don’t fully understand just how dangerous this is.” Newt’s throat ran dry and he painfully gulped, “We do not only face expulsion now...T-There are creatures in that water, creatures that are not friendly and will not like us disturbing them. Even the mermaids you speak of so fondly do not do well with strangers. And they do not look like the Muggle culture paints them to be – in these cold waters they are not as beautiful as in the warm seas of Greece. They share the love of song and music, but are you positive you wish to taint the perfect image of them with seeing how they really are?...” He fell quiet, “I am worried…worried that you’re going into this without fully asserting that we may not come back at all.” Newt’s jaw tensed, his eyes boring holes into the black window of the Boat House. He could make out a dull reflection of you and him in it, “I do not want you thinking this will be easy. B-but most of… I do not want you getting hurt because of me.”

Caught in the heat of the moment your hands clasped around his, making his shoulders jerk and he gazed at you for only a split second. You squeezed, gently, reassuringly, your chest spurring with awe at how much he cared about you – after all, you have known each other for only a day at best. The corners of your mouth creased into a soft smile, “I know it will not be easy… _But it will be worth it_.” You murmured, “I would be lying if I was not masking fear with joy. Because I was and still am.” Only now did he notice that your hands were trembling, “But these are mermaids, Newt…. _Mermaids_! Real life breathing _magical creatures_! Nothing, _nothing_ in this world could ruin them for me. And I know you think they’re just as breathtakingly gorgeous as I do, no matter how they appear…I _know_ you do. And I _know_ the dangers of this. I do, but--…Well, my mum always told me I am foolishly courageous.” You chuckled dryly, “I just…” you closed your eyes, “If you’re going with me I trust us to make it back safely, because I trust you. _B_ -But—“ you cleared your throat, “ _But_ if you changed your mind and think it would be best for us to head back another time, if ever, then I will listen to you. No matter how much I wish to go.”

Newt was touched. You trusted him? Living in his brother’s shadow for so long had obliterated any self-confidence he had had from the start, and hearing you say such things made him cry. He hurriedly released himself from your grip and wiped away tears of gratitude with the back of his sleeve as you watched unsure of what to do. You wanted to step closer but were afraid to scare him off. Newt soon spoke up, “I-I…Thank you, (Name).” He told in a raspy voice, a smile so tender blooming on his face that it made your heart swell. “I promise to protect you. I will _not_ let your trust be vain. And I can assure you I am very good at keeping promises that I have made.”

But you couldn’t possibly just stand there. You took a hesitant step closer that left hardly any space between you two. You found a badger staring at you again and tilting your head upwards you caught his gaze and locked it, even if it was only for a moment. Newt held in his breath. Your hands slowly rose to touch his cheeks and just when you though he would pull away he didn’t. Tenderly, the pads of your fingers caressed his heating skin, wiping away any remain of tears behind his eyelid. Newt closed his eyes almost painfully, releasing a slow ragged breath.

“ _You are my friend_ , Newt Scamander.” You told quietly though firmly, “That’s what friends do. They protect one another. And I sincerely hope that you will protect me on many more of our expeditions, because as you said... There are hundreds of magical creatures in Hogwarts.”

“A-Are you r-really willing to see them all?”

“There is nothing I’d be rather doing.” You smiled, “We’re in this together, you and me. No matter what.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Hello!!! I'm so glad this story is so well received! thank you everyone for the support <3  
> Now, let's talk about the plot itself...Something like a new creature every chapter or how ever long it takes. In the next cha we will see the whole mermaid ordeal. In the one after that something else and etc...I'm still very much on edge to write Newt's character because while it is very interesting and new, it is also very difficult. I'd hate to make him too OOC and really am trying my best. The problem is there isn't that many visual source material of him, but I'm sure we will grow familiar with him during this story. I hope the chemistry between the Reader and Newt isn't too cringe lmao  
> and yes all of this is happening in a span of a day because Reader is your textbook gryffindor and romance in (roughly) 1913 didn't wait
> 
> Anyway! See you in the next chapter!!! I can't wait to show it to you all!  
> Love xx


	3. Newt's Confession.

Minutes passed since you broke apart. By the docks you sat, taking off your shoes and occasionally glancing at your broom and re-thinking just exactly how will you go about doing this. Newt shuffled near the boxes, awkwardly at that. He was still trying his best to collect himself and the shattered pieces of his already weak pride. He was embarrassed and in turn chose to keep his distance. He shrugged off his robe, his mind rushing a mile a second, when he felt something latch onto his finger. Surprised he gazed at Pickett – he had completely forgotten about him! -  he giving Newt a pleading stare.

“ _Now now_ , Pickett,” Newt spoke, catching your attention, “You know I cannot take you with me. It is already dangerous enough as it is…” Slowly, he set down the Bowtruckle into the box but he still refused to let go. Newt sighed, his shoulders slumping and he crouched to level with the creature. “ _Pickett_.” His tone was gentle, though demanding, “You must let go. You will drown underwater- yes, _yes_ I know you can swim but not that far down-…Pickett. Pickett _let go_.”

“Who are you talking to?” Newt jolted, his heart nearly jumping out his throat at the question – he didn’t even hear you approach! The distraction Pickett provided faded and he found himself closing off into his shell embarrassed once more. His green eyes refused to even spare a glance at you, his fingers quickly working on prying the Bowtruckle away, “ _Oh_!” There was a smile in your voice, he could tell, “Is that…is that the Bowtruckle? The same one?” Pickett lost interest in Newt fast as his big eyes gleamed. His twig like arms loosened. Pickett climbed into your hands and Newt hand no choice but to look at you – he wished he didn’t. You gazed lovingly at the grinning creature that snuggled on your palms, the happy-go-lucky grin dimming into the same one he found absolutely stunning when he noticed you at the Great Hall.

“I-I-I think he likes you.” Newt blurred.

“I like him too.” Was your reply, your finger coming to caress its glossy surface. Despite seeming cool Pickett’s skin warm, though hard. You brought him closer to your face, “Pickett…Pickett, is it? You must listen to Newt, you hear me? This is _very very_ dangerous. You’ll be safer in this box. It has my robe in it, so you can tuck in and wait for us to return…Do we have a deal? I promise to bring you something back in turn.” Newt’s mouth fell agape and he sucked in a sharp breath when Pickett humbly bobbed his head, the corners of your mouth tightening into a bigger grin as you gently set the creature down onto your robe. The Bowtruckle was lost in your sleeve. You crouched next to Newt, the heat of your body picking at his skin and he felt himself grow confined and anxious. The ghost of your soft fingers still tingled on his cheeks and they heated along with the tip of his ears. You hummed, oblivious to his emotions. “Hey…Newt…” You said suddenly.

“Y-Yes?”

“About what you said earlier…” His heart tumbled to the pits of his stomach – will you bring up that embarrassing act of his? – as you turned to him, “About being unwelcomed in the Lake.” You clarified, catching the note of panic shimmering behind his beautiful green eyes. Your brows knitted together, “I actually… _Well_ …You see,… _Hmm_ …I have this- _this_ potion…but it’s… _uhm_ …not entirely—“

“Legal?”

“Tested.” You told with a sheepish grin, “See my best friend…Eveline de’Bach, I’m sure you have seen her around… _Uhm_ , she is very skilled in potions. Especially at making new ones…” Your hands dug into your robes pocket and took out two very small bottles with milky liquid inside. The clasp was sealed with wax, “It is like Polyjuice! Except it makes you invisible to everyone but the person whose hair you use.” You shoved the small glass into his hands, “I know we may use a spell, but…As you may know I nap during charms, and you as talented as you are, Newt, the dilute charm is highly complex, especially on living objects… And even if you could cast it, we couldn’t see each other. We may get separated and then the real trouble would begin…”

“I understand,” he said, glancing down at the feelingly cold liquid in his palm, “but I assume this…potion is not entirely safe to use?”

“May have severe side effects.” You told upbeat, “Nothing _too horrible_ , I was assured. But deep burns, rashes and frost bite are to be expected.” With a dance in your step you hopped back onto your feet, “It takes five minutes for it to kick in…You ready for a go?” Your eyes twinkled with mirth and Newt nodded, gulping. He stood up along with you. Pointing your wand at the wax, you murmured, “ _Emancipare_ ” and it melted open. A light grey smoke emitted from the depths of the glass, and sending a nervous glance at Newt you noted his bottle steaming as well. Wordless, your finger curled around a lock of (colour) hair and pulled tightly, ripping it out. You threw yours into his and he obediently followed your example. Silence. The potion turned dark purple and Newt wetted his lower lip, cautiously examining the drink.

“Is it…is it _supposed_ to do that, (Name)?” He asked.

“...Hopefully.” You pulled the potion closer to your nostril, taking a curious sniff and nearly dropping the bottle in the process. The smell it emitted was close to rotting eggs and old mouldy cheese. “May want to pinch your nose for this one.” You murmured. He nodded. Taking in a deep breath and giving yourself a pep talk, you shut your eyes tightly; pressing the cool glass to your lips and gulping the icky purple liquid in one go. You shuddered, disgusted, “ ** _Yuck_**!” Your eyes watered from the bitterness. Or was it sour? Honestly, you couldn’t tell. Newt coughed.

“… _Merlin_ —“

It settled in your stomach, spreading through your body all the way to your fingertips and even the edge of your nails. You felt yourself grow calm, the bitterness replaced with a sweet milky taste. Slowly prying your dark eyelashes open your face twisted in surprise as you took in the pale figure of Newt Scamander in front of you – he was see through like a ghost. You looked down to see your hands and they were of flesh and blood. Did you only look like a ghost to another? You awed at the sight.

“ _Merlin’s beard_ …” you uttered, lifting your irises up, “Eveline is a bloody genius! A _genius_! I will-I will have to tell her all about how fantastic she is once we return. And _you_ will go _with_ me!” You exclaimed, happily, throwing the bottled onto the ground and rubbing your hands together, “Now, firestock!”…

…

There was certain energy in the air. Brashness, if you will, that once inhaled left you teetering over the edge. Adrenaline rushed through your veins as for one last time you firmly decided to go through with the plan. There was something sweet about this, about breaking the rules, about stepping foot where no student in his sane mind would even dream about. It left your heart racing, the pupils of those dazed eyes turning cat like and following the faraway ripples in the water. Excitement bloomed like a flower and you could hardly contain yourself without jumping…

…

…Your feet tangled above the smooth cool water of the lake, your toes dipping ever so often and making a pleasant chill shake your spine. Newt’s hot breath tickled your neck, his arms tightly wrapped around your waist as your hands gripped the glossy length of your broom. The moon shone behind your back, the water gleaming under you as the reflection of a lone broom floating was portrayed in it. Newt was completely quiet, only his eyes danced with words – of how he wished to express his excitement and how he wished to tell you more about these mermaids you were about to see…Mermaids! _Mermaids_ , he repeated inside his head, his hands trembling in anticipation. His lips slit into his famous half-smile. The broom finally stopped.

You turned your head to him, wordless, your eyes locking with the blank ones of his. You smiled, your heart hammering in your chest as your bones were set on fire. The broom dipped down, now barely above the surface of the dark water. You were nearly half a leg in. Gulping, your hand left the broom to hook with his, “ _You ready_?” you whispered, your voice echoing inside his earlobe. Newt nodded.

The two of you fell in.

The waves splashed in your ears, submerging you into the cold depths of the Black Lake. The moon shone bright above you, strands of your hair floating in your vision as your back sunk deeper.  You inhaled slowly, testing out the safety of the bubble that formed around your mouth and nose. You turned your head to Newt – a bright grin had made its way on his face unbeknown to him, his bleak form appearing even more ghostly when there was nothing but clear green water around him. Your fingers intertwined with his and you turned, the normally icy cold water now being pleasantly warm due to the hot candy burning like coal in your chest. You nodded at Newt, and he in turn nodded right back. You bore your gaze into the darkness that seemed to spew from down below, a couple of sparkling fish still able to be seen before they all faded into pitch black.

The two of you dived further and further down. When dust started to dance in your vision you worriedly glanced at Newt, but he was not looking at you. Instead he gazed with fascination at seaweed that seemed to have no end and the colourful fish-like creatures sticking to it, or the glimmering gems that shone down a few more levels. He tugged you along, falling in front of you but not daring to let go. A few close calls followed after that –from a harsh stream of Grindylow’s to a creature that greatly resembled a shark, though had no teeth. It shot behind you, thankfully only grazing your back, but not actually hurting you. All of this was caused due to the fact that you could hardly see: the moon could only shine that far, and as you swam deeper it all blurred and flipped. Once your vision was obscured by a layer of weeds you pushed them out your face, narrowing your eyes at the far away lights – was that where you were supposed to go?

Before long your ears caught a quiet melody, smooth as butter. It infiltrated your ears, making you strangely dizzy and eager to come closer, a look of wonder passing your features as you drew near the light. It turned out to be small rocks and flaming amber, lighting up the ruins around them: big arches with ornate sculptures that went even further down decorated with floating leafs and flowers that embittered golden sparkles from their core. You awed, your eyes eagerly shooting from the stone statue of a lady without a head, to the various golds and jewels peaking under the lids of mossy chests. You heard voices, like sweet whispers of a lover, cooing in your ears and your heart spurred – unconsciously, you squeezed Newt’s hand.

Newt suddenly pulled you close into a bush of weeds and you audibly gasped. You sent a questioning look his way, frowning softly when he brought a finger to where his lips should be, motioning with his head for you to take a look. What you saw left you breathless.

The mermaid held a lantern in her grasp, her green locks floating in the dark water as her long tail glimmered in purple that emitted a soft silver hue. She flapped her tail, twirling in the water and letting her grey skin soak up the light before a hum escaped her glossy lips. It soon turned into a song, one so delicate and beautiful in left you dazed; only gently did you lean in to hear it better. Sound spread through the water; caressing your skin and making your hairs stand on end. Those narrowed bright yellow eyes scanned the area as she passed right where the two of you were hiding, her tail flopping just inches away from your face. Mesmerized, you couldn’t even blink.

Newt was no better. He stared in awe, his hand unconsciously tightening around your own as he felt you grip slowly slip. He gazed at the mermaid, the voices of others getting louder and echoing in the water. It was all so…magical. He couldn’t believe he was actually here, observing a real life mermaid, one he has dreamed of seeing ever since he found out there was a colony residing in the Black Lake. A wheezing laugh that was riddled with astonishment and disbelieve escaped his lips and he glanced at you and you at him. Your gazes met and your heart jumped.

But it wasn’t because of the sweet moment. The bleakness his skin got from Eveline’s potion had started to regain colour, his form slowly turning solid. Newt’s smile fell. He quickly looked around for anyone that may be watching the two of you – it was a futile attempt. They were almost half way down the **_Black Lake_** and what seems to be very big trouble.

“ _Dilute charm_ ” You mouthed; catching his attention, “ _Dilute charm!”_ you hissed. A squeak, so loud in pitch pierced your ears that you twitched, your eyes shooting to the floating form of a Grindylow that was staring directly at the two of you. The coolness of the potion was suddenly sucked in and you became completely visible. “ _Newt_ …” You whispered, frozen, “ _Newt_ we are in--…”

“ _Don’t_ move. Not even a smidge. Grindylow’s are not always aggressive, but it will attack and call for help if he thinks we are hostile. I may be able to talk him out of it.”

“Talk…with a Grindylow? Are you bonkers?”

“Could ask you the same thing. It may come as a surprise, but these creatures need to be---“ He wasn’t able to finish as the green creature screeched again. “Never mind,” Newt mumbled, yanking out his wand, “Hold on tight—“

A swarm of them warped your vision, separating you and the only other human. You gasped, grabbing around for your wand when one’s tentacles yanked on your hair harshly, making tears spring in your eyes. You felt your wand slip and panicked you gripped it tighter.

“ _Stupefy_!” You yelled. A stream of bright white light dashed out the end of your wand and stunned the five Grindylow’s around you. More latched onto your ankles, pulling you down, “ ** _Newt_**!” You yelled, frantically looking around for him but he was nowhere in sight. You fired the spell again, but more seemed to burst. Their teeth crackled loudly against your earlobe as you could only cast magic so fast – by now the whole lake knew where you were and swarmed. Your vision danced with their teeth their nails pinching and scratching your skin. Red cuts covered your arms, and suddenly feeling sick you felt your head be set ablaze. “ _Sectumsempra_!”

Newt ducked in time to let the spell fly over his head, “ _Stupefy_!” he pointed his wand at the crackling creatures, grabbing your hand tightly, pointing his wand upwards, “ _Ascendio_!” Like a bullet you shot upwards, the whole of the lake flashing before your eyes as you broke the surface. The bubble popped. Falling back in when you had nothing to hold onto, you choked on the icky green water. “ _Accio_ broom!” for some strange reason Newt’s voice sounded distorted, far away. Your body felt sluggish, the tips of your fingers turning frosty and cold.

Before you knew it you were laying on your back with shining stars above your head. Everything spun. You suddenly became very aware of your breath, your lungs locking ever so often and making it hard for you to breathe. You coughed, your head splitting in half from pain. Hissing, you shut your eyes and tried to move but couldn’t.

“…(N-…me)?” a voice from far away called. A cold touch landed on your burning cheek, an erratic murmur of some sort getting lost behind the rushing blood behind your eardrum. A buzzing silence followed after and you grew unbelievably tired, shutting your eyes and unable to open them back up again.

…

…

…

…Newt would often find his eyes wandering back to the Gryffindor table at your usual seat that was now empty and untouched. His heart would tumble to the pits of his stomach each time, guilt squeezing his throat and he’d bore his gaze at his trembling hands. Biting down the tears he’d then quickly stand up and collect his things, ignoring the stinging glares of other students following his back. It was his fault.

Everything was his fault.

Newt tried to stay away from you, but you being only a short trip to the Hospital Wing away proved to be nearly impossible. Here he was again, feeling himself both rejoice and suffocate. Here at the very back you laid on a tray of white fluffy pillows, eyes closed softly as rhythmical breaths left your parted pale lips. He sat down, admiring your features for a moment. He wanted to reach out and hook a loose strand of (colour) hair behind your ear, but didn’t dare. You had touched him, but he still couldn’t bring himself to do the same. It was quiet here like it was each day he dropped by. A solemn smile pinched the corners of his cheeks, and raising his wand he murmured “ _Avis_ ”. A flock of small yellow feathered birds appeared, chirping and flapping their wings over your head. Newt was positive you’d be grinning if you saw them.

He wasn’t entirely sure what to do with his hands when he put the wand away, so he settled with folding them on his lap. He took in a deep breath, blinking nervously before his quiet voice started to ring in the empty Hospital Wing, “A week. It has been a week already.” His shoulders slumped, “A week and I’m still here.” He joked, “… _still here_.” He gulped, “ _Y_ -your friends they…they have not been kind to me. They differ from you…in more ways than one, as it seems. I do not blame them in any way, I assure you, and in fact I find myself agreeing with them…” He glanced down, fiddling with his fingers, “Days without you seem dull and slow, as if something was missing. You came into my life so suddenly that I-… _I_ cannot keep up, really. I foolishly claimed I could take you to see all magical creature’s that reside in this castle and around it…I was trying to show off, you know. And because of this…you are ill. I knew this will happen. Dragging you to the _Black Lake_ – **_The Black Lake_** – _what was I thinking_?! _What was I to expect_?!” His voice grew louder and harsher, riddled with upcoming sobs as his shoulders shook, “…But you see _I-I-I_ act irrationally when it comes to my creatures and I cannot focus on anything else and that-that was what put you in such grieve danger that you barely managed to make it out alive—“ Newt’s green eyes spilled with tears, hurt spreading like wild fire inside him, “We have known each other for such a short amount of time and yet I have already managed to wound you…” He gulped down a new stream of tears, rubbing away the salty liquid behind his eyelid, releasing a slow ragged breath, “I wish to stay away from you. It is for the best but I-I… _cannot even do such a simple task_. Whenever I stumble upon a beast more than anything I want to dash to you and show it, tell you all about it because I _know_ you will listen. I _know_ you will understand. Not push me away, though you may once you open those innocent eyes of yours…And Pickett, _oh Pickett misses you dearly_. I had to use a spell to pry him away from your robe…He does seem to love you more than he loves me. See, he doesn’t get along with his peers. He’s different. _Weaker_. They… _exclude_ him. Make him feel terribly lonely…that’s why the silly name, if you were curious to ask. I-… _I_ well, you might wonder how do I know this and it is because—“ he stopped himself, “I will show you once you wake up… There I go again, making promises that will only get you hurt.” He cleared his throat, “I could never say this if you were conscious, and perhaps, dare I say, I am thankful you are not.” He murmured, “Not yet, at least. But you _must_ forget me, (Name)…Or should I say, _I_ _should forget you_?” He shook his head, “I will bring you nothing but shame. You don’t deserve to be excluded like Pickett for the wrong choice of f--…f-friends.” The word left a bitter taste in his mouth, “ _Thank_ _you_ for the wonderful adventure, and I am so terribly sorry this happened to you. We got to see mermaids…” Tears were picking at the corners of his glossy eyes again, and he sniffled, smiling, “ _Mermaids_ …I wish this would all seem like a dream to you once you awake. And may you hear their sweet lulling voices only when you close your eyes… Thank you. I-… _I think that this is wh-where our journey and fr-friendship must end_. For _your sake_ , (Name)…I do not wish to bring you any more pain than I already have…”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you can tell, mermaids or any magical creatures will play a minor role despite the whole fic kinda centered around them. the only thing really important is the dynamic between (name) and newt, their (more like his) growing feelings and friendship. that's why this chapter is called newt's confession.  
>  I'd like to thank everyone that left a comment, a kudos or a read! Thank you thank you thank you!!! It means the world to me, since I really love writing this!!! <3 Tell me if you wish to see anything in future chapters.  
>  For now... cheerio!


	4. Confusing Feelings.

A distortion of images surfaced in your mind, playful colours flashing beneath your eyelid. Your skin tingled from a memory of cool water, ears ringing with whispers and coy calls of your name. It was a melody, almost, making you fall deeper and deeper into the cloud of fog that seemed to have no end to it. Your fingers twitched suddenly, muscles jerking as if shaken up for the first time in years. A voice, shy, but filled with hurt, played like a broken record when those sweet calls died down. Did you hear a faint chirping of birds? Who was talking? Your heart jumped back to life and you parted your lips to take in a deep breath of air.

Cheerful laughter echoed in where ever you were. Slowly, using the small amount of energy you had, you pried your tired eyes open. Through a forest of dark lashes you could faintly make out white lights and pale sheets, feeling dizzy you closed them back up. Again, you tried and succeeded, falling into light panic when you did not recognise where you were. You halted upwards, sitting up as cold sweat poured out your skin. That fear was soon eased as you realized you were at the Hospital Wing. But why? You couldn’t recall anything.

“(Name)!” You turned your head and grinned seeing your Quidditch team shuffling by the door way, Eveline being the first one to rush to you and engulf you into a tight hug. You hugged back right away, releasing a dry chuckle as your eyes curiously wandered from one happy face to another, an unspoken question lingering in the air. Once she let go she wiped a tear from her eye before anyone could catch on and squeezed you one more time before sitting down, “Oh, how worried we were, you have no idea!”

“Yeah,” Kevin Quill, a boy who had a crush on you since second year, spoke up, ruffling his already messy tar black hair, “What happened to you?” Despite trying to sound nonchalant he was clearly worried. The group gazed at you demanding for an answer.

“…Sorry, I don’t quite recall…anything.” You murmured, faltering under their stares.

“We were told you were poisoned.” Eveline pipped up.

“Poisoned?” You gasped, “By whom?” They shook their heads.

“We don’t know…”

“Yes, we do.” Kevin told, bitterly, “It was that _freak_ Scamander I tell you. I saw you try and befriend him, (Name). He probably got desperate when you saw him for what he truly is and poisoned you.”

You stopped listening at ‘Scamander’, the name shaking you to the very core and striking your head with such immense pain your vision danced with white stars. In a rush you recapped everything that had happened – from hitting his nose with your broom to fighting off Grindylows and barely making it out. It was he that had saved you…Yes! Yes now you remember! Unbeknownst to you a smile so bright lit up your face your group a friends shared an uneasy look.

“No, no, you got it all wrong!” You said, “Newt saved me. He brought me here! If he didn’t…who knows what would have happened…” that was a much darker thought you didn’t wish to linger on. Kevin was not convinced, though. He took a confident step closer, drawing in your attention and crossing his arms over his chest.

“Things might be confusing to you now, but I assure you Scamander did not save you. He was the one who put you in danger, (Name). _Creature_ will get what’s coming for him, just you wait---“ before he could finish the big doors cracked open again, this time a fumbling mess of a student slipping in but abruptly freezing once he saw the angry mob lancing him with their glares. It all soon faded for him as he saw you awake. Albeit tired, to him you still looked absolutely lovely. For a short moment Newt forgot just how unwanted he was, his eyes peering into your own with love as a half-smile lit up his freckled face.

“(Name)…” Newt muttered, disbelieve riddling his voice. Dark clouds soon settled, though, as your friends took a protective stance in front of you, Kevin Quill already making his way to Scamander to teach him a lesson or two. Newt faltered, fear shaking his bones as the much taller and buffer male drew in close. As if only now realizing that this will not end well, you jolted, gripping your sheets tightly – you still couldn’t move, sadly – panic striking your chest.

“ _No_!” You screeched, nearly lunging out of bed but Eveline held you down.

“(Name)… (Name) _listen to me_. _He_ poisoned you. He would’ve done God knows what—“

“No, no _no_!” You felt tears pick at the surface of your eyes, a sob squeezing your throat as your vision flashed in red from anger, “ _Kevin_ _Quill_!” You yelled, once the said male grabbed a hold of Newt’s shirt but abruptly halted from your voice, “ _Kevin Theodore Quill_ if you touch him, I swear _if you touch him_ , I will hex each and every bludger in the castle to shoot your head as if it was a target, you hear me?!” Kevin turned his head to you, surprised. The surprise melted into conflict as he knitted his brows together. The infirmary was deadly silent. Finally, sending one last pitiful glare Newt’s way he let the boy go and you released a silent breath of relief. When you found your voice, you spoke again, “ _Leave_.” You spat. “All of you! _leave_!” With tired smiles and curt nods the Quidditch team loosened – the last thing they wanted was to upset you. Eveline quickly grabbed a hold of your hand, squeezing it reassuringly.

“I’ll come see you later…” She murmured warmly before letting go. As she passed Newt, though, her stance turned icy cold and she glared at him, snarling. When she and the rest were gone from sight you fell back into your pillows. Newt was unsure of what to do. He was still shivering, the books he was holding between his fingers slipping but he managed to grab hold of them in the nick of time. Nervously he tilted his head to look at you. Disappointment held a bitter taste, he realized – your eyes, although he wished so dearly, were not directed at him. He gulped, pondering whether he should stay or go. He was already one foot out the door. Then again, who knew what awaited him outside the safety of the infirmary?

Newt smiled. Did it matter? No, but even if it did, it mattered very little. You were awake and healthy, and that was enough to lift his mood. The whole school despised him already –nothing new there. But… surely when the influence of your friends kicks in you would call him a freak just like everyone else did. Maybe even blame him for the trouble he put you in. And you had every right to do so but-…no…what was he thinking? You would never act so vile.

He hoped more than anything you wouldn’t. When you called his name, so delicately and sadly he hurriedly shuffled to you, forgetting about everything he wished to say: he had prepared a speech for your awakening and had learned it by heart, but now, as he watched the sunrays dance on your sprawled hair his mind drew blank. Newt gulped. You smiled. His cheeks lit up with a dusty blush.

“Thank you.” You said, your fingers itching to grasp his hand, though it was out of your reach. Newt made no steps to come closer.

“F-F-For what?” Your brows knit together – he sounded bitter, “For putting you in danger? For nearly ending your li—“

“That was not your fault.” You declared, firmly, “It was a side-effect from the potion…” you added, tired, “I know it was…I felt frost bite my fingers and I knew something went wrong. But I’m glad that you’re okay.”

He didn’t deserve this kindness, Newt reminded himself. He didn’t. But even then, he sat down at the edge of your bed and nodded grimly, “…It should’ve been me.” He told, “I was the one who suggested going in the first place. It should have been I laying here, not you, (Name).”

Your heart spurred in your chest, a sense so ticklish licking your stomach that you weren’t exactly sure what was happening to you. Your cheeks heated and you looked away, unable to keep his gaze. You gulped, muttering “I am glad it’s not you. I would have been scared out of my mind if it was.”

“And you think I wasn’t?”

 _Thud_.

“I have been coming here each and every day, asking myself how and why did this happen…I wished you would forget about this. About me… Then again, I should be putting more effort in shaking you off too. Perhaps it was guilt that made me return…” Newt knew perfectly well it wasn’t, “I came here one last time to make sure you are safe and healthy and now that I am sure…” he was unable to finish.

“…You came here every day?” you questioned, sitting up with that same child-like glint in your eyes that he found so mesmerizing. He glanced at you, though not for long, his stare then directed to your bed post as he nodded. “Thank you for worrying about me.”

Newt’s cheeks heated, “It was the least I could do… And please, stop thanking me.”

“Only if you stop blaming yourself.” You insisted. He didn’t reply. “I do not like the way they treat you.” He suddenly perked up, “ _Creature_ … _Freak_ …you are neither of those things, Newt, I hope you realize that. And even if you do not, I just want you to know that…” you blinked nervously, feeling yourself grow hot again, “I-I think you are pretty spectacular.”

~*~

It all changed from there on out. In the air lingered a sweet smell, one that both dazzled and confused you as whenever he was near you found yourself unexplainably happy. Your heart would dance, waves of warmth riddling your body as your cheeks would grow a bright red if he spared you one of his twitch-y smiles. With visions warped the two of you would stumble through the castle unconsciously seeking the other out, and when you’d meet all you could do was sheepishly grin and exchange a couple of awkward words before dashing off. You found yourself watching him as frequently as he was you – your gazes would often meet and spark when you sat at lunch or dinner, but feigning innocents you’d both look away. You tried keeping your distance, after all, your friends were not fond of him and you wished to keep him as far away from danger as possible.

You missed him though. Missed the excitement of that one adventure forever engraved in your mind as the most astounding and downright idiotic thing you had ever done (besides passing your O.W.L’s that is). But most of all you missed the sound of his voice, the passionate tone he spoke in when he was telling you about something he loved, or the nervous stutter when he was compassionate and vulnerable. Those green irises you’d often meet – so kind, so bright – would shimmer in your mind even when you weren’t actively seeking them out. Suddenly, all those flashes of holding his hand were important, making you light on your feet as you’d jump and grin once recalled his delicate, though rough, fingers wrapped around your own.

You weren’t the only one to notice the sudden change in emotion, as it seemed. Eveline de’Bach and Kevin Quill had keen eyes, especially when it came to you: they noted the glances you’d send him, they now being softer, lovelier, somewhat dimmed yet still sparkling. It was a drastic change from your normally unfocused though bright (color) eyes. Some say eyes are the windows to the soul…so what caused the alarming shift?

A week till October was left. The first Quidditch match of the year was exactly two hours away and you were a wreck, jumping by your table and aimlessly chatting your housemates’ ears off, the radiant grin on your face riddled with cracking nerves and joy. You were hot in your uniform. As Kevin talked, sending a nasty glare at the Hufflepuff table at that, he ate his breakfast. You had hardly touched yours. Your stomach twisted and turned and shifting in your seat you gulped, boring your eyes into some French toast and jam.

“You will do great, (Name).” Eveline reassured, offering you a smile, “Those hufflepuffs won’t know what hit them.”

“Leroy’s bludger, hopefully.” Kevin mumbled, his eyes narrowing at the boy who had just shown up. With a sigh you nodded, determination growing in you as you swallowed your nerves and wetted your lower lip to announce that you were ‘fine’ and ‘not nervous at all’. That’s when you caught him across the hall, eyeing you shyly before he shuffled to a free seat. You spurred, jolting up. Kevin blinked, “Where ar—“

“In a jiffy-be back I.” You blurred, rushing to Newt in an unnaturally fast pace. The tip of his ears shone bright red when you were finally within eye sight. He tilted his head to the side, a wordless question displayed on his handsome features but he didn’t ask. You stopped. “…Hi.” You said breathless.

“…Hi.”

“Will you come to the match?” You asked, glancing away, “I play, today, obviously. I-It would mean a lot…If you would cheer for me. But if you cheer for your house that’s fine too! Just, since we’re…” you trailed off. What were you? Friends? You had hardly said a word to each other in a week… But did that really change anything? “We’re friends.” You smiled. “Friends.”

Newt cleared his throat, “O-of course I will come, (Name).” He gave you his half-smile, shyly looking down before adding, “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” 

Again that feeling, that strange rush of awe and warmth spread like wild fire and you blushed like a rose.

“Would you like to…hang out afterwards?”

“I believe you’ll be too busy celebrating your victory.”

“You think we’ll win?”

“I don’t have a doubt in my heart.”

His voice never heaved, never went above the quiet tone you were already used to. It was gentle, somewhat raspy and sounded absolutely lovely. You nodded, both to shake yourself out of your thoughts and as a way to thank him.

“I don’t mind skipping a party if that means spending more time with you.”

This time it was his turn to blush, his frantic gaze meeting yours for only just a moment. He gulped - his throat was dry. “W-w-w-well I-I-that is very sweet of you, though unnecessary.”

“But I want to.” Your voice sounded firmer than a minute ago, determined you leaned in, but just a bit, growing closer to his face but far away to still mind his personal space, “Tell you what.” An idea sparked in your mind and you had no objections in voicing it, “If we win today I will show you something special. If we don’t, then… You will finally be able to shake me off.” There was a note of sadness in that voice, your eyes dropping as pain picked in your chest. Newt was quiet.

“Very well.” He replied, blinking rapidly, “B-But I don’t want you think that I don’t enjoy your company because quite frankly I do a lot actually and—“

“I know.” You smiled, leaning out, “Fingers crossed for our victory.”

~*~

The clear blue sky remained sunny even after the Quidditch match. The Gryffindor house marched back to the common room to celebrate in songs, the team being first and sprouting about their victory with their heads held high and hearts spurring from joy. Normally, you would be joining them, most proud of all since it was you who had granted them 150 points. But you weren’t. Once students piled up to congratulate you slipped away, unseen, finding Newt Scamander – which proved to be a bit difficult – and dragging him to the courtyard.

Out of breath you stopped near a big griffin, its features sharp as if just sculpted, resting by a stone wall. With a huff you send a smile at Newt, who was just as red as you, and scooted closer to the statue, pushing past it, “It’s a bit tight! Also…watch you head.” You mumbled, turning a corner and vanishing. Eagerly Newt followed after you, curious of what you had promised to show him. A crack in the wall appeared in front of him, and ducking his head he squeezed past it, tumbling into the much cooler area.

The pocket of space was secure and small, the far away voices of fellow students getting sucked in by the crack and leaving it strangely quiet. Mossy stone walls boxed the two of you in. Wines dripped from the far away glass ceiling, specs of dirt and greenery tainting and cracking the roof. Newt eyes travelled from the uneven ground to the ornate carvings of birds by a lone bench, where the only other living being sat on. It was dark here, a pale blue hue reflecting from the moist walls. Was it one of the many secrets of Hogwarts?

You pulled out your wand, murmuring ‘ _Lumos’_ and the area lit up. Spider webs glimmered from dew somewhere above Newt’s head as he continued to look around.

“Peaceful here, isn’t it?” Your voice rung and bounced off the walls, making him shiver since you sounded right next to his ear. He glanced at you, though not for long, “Like a completely different world.”

“Is this what you wished to show me?”

“I thought you’d like it.” You said, sheepishly, “I came here sometimes when I felt down…” You admitted, “Which was quite often when I didn’t know you.”

Newt heart jumped in his chest and he feared that you heard it – frankly, you did not. His palms clamped with sweat and he nervously sat next to you, fiddling with his fingers as his eyes jumped from the nightshade’s peeking out the crack of flooring or you.

“Y-You…you shouldn’t say such things.” He murmured, his throat shaking, “One might get the wrong idea.”

“There is no wrong idea to get.” You insisted.

“Believe me there is…”

You merely shook your head at his statement, “I know you are scared of hurting me again. You said it yourself. But I am fine now, I always was! You promised to show me all magical creatures, or have you already forgotten? And to protect me. I’m not scared of anything, Newt Scamander, and in turn you don’t have to be either.” His shoulders slumped. He was silent for a long while, saddened.

“…It will be best for you to go back to your team now, (Name).”

Your brows knitted together fiercely and you stood up. He twitched, thinking you’d leave like you were supposed to. He was almost relieved. Instead, though, the bright light was snuffed out and you pointed your wand and the corner of the room. “ _Dissendium_.” you murmured, a spark of bright yellow lights danced in his vision as the ground trembled. His fingers latched onto the bench to stay put. A trap door opened. You turned your head to Newt – through the dimness he could see the faint outline of a smile and a magnificent adventure driven glimmer of your dark (color) eyes.

“I’m going whether you like it or not.” Again, your voice made him hot as it spoke next to his earlobe. Or at the very least appeared to. Your footsteps echoed and he halted up, about to demand you not go anywhere when you jumped in. For a short moment he contemplated should he stay or go and nearly hit himself up the head – of course he should go! What kind of question even was this!? With a quick pace he retraced your steps and with a deep breath jumped in, his back hitting harsh metal pipes as he slid further and further down, trying to bite down an excited, though anxious, scream. He could hear you laughing further ways from him.

 _Another adventure_ , he though. _Another one_.

Newt grinned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> they are so in love jfc precious puppies  
> thank you everyone so so so so soooo much!!!! for all the comments and kudos and everything!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1 hugs and kisses my friends xxxxxx  
> i hope you enjoyed this chapter. the next one will be more action filled, woohoo! i love writing this!!!!  
> until next time!!!


	5. Mud-blood.

You came to a screeching halt as the cool metal shifted to cement behind the soft fabric of your clothes and with an exited yelp you fumbled into a pit of dry debris and cracked flooring. The sizzling sound of Newt riding down the pipes echoed in the dimly lit area. You coughed, accidently inhaling a breath of white dust. You could faintly smell mould and the familiar stench of water from the pipes. Your sides were most definitely bruised. Your spine trembled when something wet slid down your back –it was strangely cold, so your best guess was water. Newt suddenly yelled and you gasped, a body slamming onto your own as your face drew deeper to cobble. Your forehead stung and you hissed, your bones groaning as the boy atop of you lazily opened his eyes.

He wondered why did he land on something so soft and panicked once he realized it was you. Abruptly, and cutting his palm at that, he rose up muttering apologies and shakily gulped saliva that started gathering in his mouth. He felt strangely hot again, his cheeks betraying him and you rolled over, sitting up and through a bush of messy (color) hair looking up. “Sorry…” He said again, glancing away and brushing off his robe. You didn’t comment, merely grinned with a gleeful laugh and hopped back on your feet. You shook off your robe and threw it to the side. Your uniform was a mess – smudged and torn at some places, your cheeks smeared with grey dust and blueish rust from the slowly decaying metal. He was no better, he presumed, and taking out his wand he muttered a charm. His dress shirt was tugged back into his pants and his tie straightened, any dirt latching off and water stains drying. You followed in his example, now looking squeaky clean and completely out of place in such a dirty hall. You waved at your hair and it folded into a tight braid. Grinning, you twirled your wand between your fingers.

“My hair always lets loose,” You admitted, “can never do the spell right. Lasts a couple of hours at best.”

“…better than lasting an eternity.” Newt said. You shrugged.

“I suppose having it tame for long would get dull after a while.” Your gaze went from him to the passage way behind you – it was dark, darker than where you two stood. Streams of water went down the pipes and made them groan, it later dripping into a small puddle. You gripped your wand tighter, but it was not out of fear – it was only joy you felt, that and the obvious anxiety of being completely alone with him. Nevertheless, adventure was in the air (along with debris and other pesky things that made your throat itchy and dry). Raising you wand you uttered ‘ _Lumos’_ , narrowing your eyes when it became too bright.

“Shall we?” Your voice jumped as you asked, though did not wait for his answer and started moving. He quickly caught on.

“You know where we’re heading?” At his question you tilted your head to the side, eyes gleaming with the bleak light from your wand and the thrill of adventure.

“Haven’t got the faintest of clues…” Your voice echoed in the hallway. Newt curtly nodded, falling quiet as he examined his surroundings – overall nothing seemed to fall out of place or glimmer: these walls were tall, fractured and bare. Rust carved old torches that were damp and rotting. Not even magic could light a fire in them. The silence grew as you continued forward. It felt more personal, sticking to your skin and buzzing in your earlobe as every sway of his robe, every short breath he took and even the blink of his long lashes created a sort of sound only you could hear. That and his heartbeat, which drummed as loud as your own. Even ‘Lumos’ didn’t help – the darkness swallowed you completely, now only a faint ball of light hoovered over your head shining over your face, but nothing else. You had realized at that very moment that his presence was the only thing that made you feel even remotely real – not seeing your limbs and anything in front of you was strangely terrified. Your hand shot to his by instinct, hitting him accidentally. Newt only glanced at you, though did not pull away as you intertwined your fingers with his.

There it was again, the slithering sweet scent that made you dizzy and excited, but most of all pleasantly warm.

“Have you always—“ you broke the silence, your voice bouncing off the walls and making your ears ring. You lowered it to a whisper and continued, “Have you always loved beasts so much?”

“I-Well…See, my mother was a hippogriff breeder. I believe it is because of her that I cannot imagine myself taking an interest in anything else…Don’t misunderstand, I love magic and spells, but…creatures are the only thing I find truly fascinating.”

“It’s because they are...”

“Not many people think that way.”

“And not many have to. Beasts are meant for those who are kind hearted and brave…I think they can sense it when a witch or wizard has bad intentions. It’s quite evident on their faces…No, magical creatures only love those who love…just love…I guess that’s why they fancy you so much, Newt.”

“For such a peculiar girl you have a way with words.”

“Is it me you should be calling peculiar?”

Only when the faint chuckles die down did he speak again, “And what about you, (Name)?—I-I mean…what is it that you want to do…after Hogwarts, I mean.”

“I want to be an Auror.” It was a firm, clear sentence that he realized there and then had been thought through many times – despite the stoic tone he could hear a faint smile, “See, in the muggle world I wants to be a policewoman. My dad’s in the force you see, mum’s a nurse. I always looked up to him… Cunning and brave. Has a way with words, as you said. Once I found out that there is such a thing as Aurors I wanted to be one. More than anything. I want to help people. Nothing stops bad people from doing bad things…You can lock them up, but that doesn’t change the fact that they wish for nothing more but to inflict harm on others…But you can protect the good. So as long as there’s someone to save the good, it really doesn’t matter how much bad is out there, right?“

“It is my philosophy that worry means you suffer twice.”

“Yet you worry about me all the time.”

“That is different.”

“How so?”

Silence.

“W-Well…I think you’d be a fine policewoman, (Name). That being said…I think you’d be an outstanding Auror.” You smiled at his words, “Only if you stop sleeping in Charms, though.”

“Oh shut up!...I only slept there because my other studies were taking up too much time. I am fairly talented with spells I’ll have you know!...except I missed a lot of them…I will catch up, just you wait.”

His mind jigged as the word ‘spell’ echoed in his earlobe for far too long. In his vision flashed a motion movie of you tangled in Grindylow’s, your wand flaring and a silent scream ‘ _Sectumsepra_!’ riddling the cool black water. He shook himself from his thoughts and nearly fumbled over.

“Speaking of spells…” you perked up, “(Name), have you invented any?”

“O-Oh…” you murmured after a long while, “Only one…I’m… _well_ …I’m fairly good with spells. Charms and hexes, small things here and there are a bit trickier for me, but…Defence Against the Dark Arts is my favourite as you know. I may have…invented a spell or two in my free time…I never intended to use _Sectumsempra_ , though! It just slipped out! I panicked, I would _never_ — _not purposely_ …-I…I’m just glad I didn’t hit you.”

“And…what were to happen if you did?”

Your face crumbled, “I’d rather you not know.”

In the distance shone an outline of a door. With a jump in your step you rushed to it, trying to shake off the growing tension in the air and nearly tripping when your foot got caught in some debris. As you stood next to it you felt eerily cold – the damp wood was cool and emitted a strange smell. Newt was quick to take out his wand, wordless, pointing it at the lock and with a pale blue light it clicked open.

His hand slowly pried the door open, a gush of warm air and light flooding him and you and the dark corridor behind. Cautiously he entered first, scanning the area before pulling you in with him. The door swung shut. The dungeon was warm and bright – torches danced with flames that licked the low ceiling. Just when you thought it was safe, though, a light tapping reached your ears that turned into heavy footfalls as something, or _someone_ , approached you. You readied your wand, and so did Newt, sending glances at each other you nodded.

Out of a corner came a short creature and you faltered, amazed: it was a…turtle, one that had bright red rubies crowning its hard shell and an angry expression on its wrinkled face. It sneered and growled under its breath, those dark beady eyes boring to the other direction.

Newt was frozen, his hand tightly gripping yours as none of his muscles dared to move. Almost robotically he turned his head to you, motioning to the pillar not too far from where you stood – you guessed he was offering to hide, and you agreed immediately. You weren’t fast enough, though, as with a horrid screech the turtled shot fire and Newton pulled you to safety quick.

“W-What is that thing?” You uttered, pressing your back to the cool stone as you surpassed a yelp one a ball of fire spat out again. Newt’s hands were boxing you in, both on either side of your head as with a wondrous expression he gazed at the angry beast with awe twinkling in his bright green eyes.

“Fire crab,” Was his quiet reply, his eyes going from you to him and back, “native to the Fiji islands…Very _very_ highly protected because the jewels on its back are very valuable…But what’s one doing in Hogwarts?”

“Ask it?”

“Brilliant idea, if only it understood me though…” Newt’s voice held a note of disappointment in it. He then looked at you, gulping when he realized just how this situation would look to a stranger – two teenagers alone in the dungeons in a quite strange position hiding away from a fire crab. When he sees Leta again he will have many things to tell her. But for now he focused on the danger at hand, seeing as you were peaking your head out again to marvel at the crabs shinning rubies.

With an ‘ _Eep_!’ you retracted all of your libs closer, feeling the stone heat and groan as another fireball hit. “Where…where exactly is the fire coming from?”

“…It’s rear end.”

You blinked, “It truly is magic…”

“Right, _Rictusempra_ should knock it over and then we run.”

“Wont it hurt it?” You hurriedly asked. Newt faltered; amazed that someone actually cared about a fire-crabs safety. Then again, considering everything that had happened he shouldn’t be surprised at all.

“N-No…No, it won’t.”

Again he found himself feeling strangely ticklish, his hands longing to touch you for some peculiar reason he could not explain.

~*~

Things don’t always go as planned, though, and as you sprinted down an icy hallway you came to realize this quick – Newt was nowhere in sight, and going back would mean to face more of those strange crab-turtle things that really didn’t like you for some reason. They were fairly gentle with Newt as he tried to reason with them, meaning he stuck out his hand and bent his knees to level with them, whilst they responded by not attacking and staring at him like he was an A class idiot. Once you poked your head in that’s when all hell broke loose – one screeched and shot fire, alerting the others (yes, there were more). With angry huffs and tapping their six pointy legs the crabs raged, leaving no other choice but to use magic and get the hell out. Why were they there you had no idea. You just hoped they weren’t lurking about, ready to jump you when you least expect it.

Alert (colour) irises carefully scanned each and every corner – nothing seemed familiar, to be fair the design in this place was very similar. No Newt either. With a curt sigh, you winced when the back of your hand jolted with pain – glancing at it you found a bright red spot that ached from the slightest of movements and even the caress of air. How come you didn’t notice it sooner? You figured you were too hyped to process anything, really. The run really messed with your head. The sudden attack did too.

For a while you tried not to bite on your nails and just continue to go forward. You’d get out eventually, you were sure of it, but getting lost or stuck were the least of your worries – your mind kept playing awful scenarios that all involved Newt being in some sort of danger and you not being there to swoop him up onto your broom and ride to victory.

Then again, Newt was a brilliant wizard and excelled in all of his classes. The thought was enough to ease you, but only for a bit.

Doors were on either side of you and hastily you tried opening some but most wouldn’t unlock even with a charm. One that did budge though was the one you pushed open. Cautious you stared into the darkness, feeling it stare right back and just as you were to close it the room lit up – old lamps covered in spider webs seemed to be placed in the most random of spaces. Atop of shelfs, beneath stacks of books, on the floor, glued to the walls. The room greatly resembled Hogwarts’s library, and perhaps even rivalled in size, but you knew well this was not the same room – the massive paintings here did not move and some that did kept their eyes closed tightly.

The door shut behind you and you snapped your head to it. No going back now. You took a couple of steps forward, cringing when the floorboards squeaked. You hurriedly looked around, listening for any suspicious noise that may indicate danger. Dust fell from the high ceiling. Far away a portrait whimpered. Out of the corner of your eye you noticed movement, a fragment of a black cloak getting lost behind a bookshelf further down. You gulped, prying your lips to speak but you didn’t dare – if it really was something dangerous it was best to keep quiet. If your presence didn’t annoy it, the sound of your voice sure will.

The lights flickered and you felt yourself grow sick. Your hands trembled.

“…(Name)?” You jumped, your heart nearly hurtling out your chest as you looked forward meeting gazes with a green irises.

“Newt!” Relief and joy was evident on your face and hurried you came closer but then halted. Was it the light? Newt Scamander seemed different. Those normally bright green eyes were darker, colder, distant. His hands were neatly folded behind his back and he stood aloof, his clothes neat and his hair combed. Noting the conflict on your face Newt smiled, though it was one you had yet to see – small, though playful as his eyes gleamed with mirth. He took a casual step closer, looking around the library.

“I was hoping you got lost.”

Confused, you raised a brow.

“Honestly, would have done us all a favour. Especially your parents…who would want to raise a _freak_ such as you? Pathetic.”

“…Ne-“

“Do not dare speak my name you dirty mud-blood.”

Your world nearly slipped beneath your feet as you took a step back, your shoulder slumping as a stinging pain went up your throat along with hot tears.

“An Auror? _please_ , don’t make me laugh. You have no place in the Ministry, (Name).” He shook his head, “To be honest…I never liked you and I could not for the life of me understand why others did. See, I know why they make fun of me – I’m the weird kid, the crazy one, but you…” he smiled, “(Name) (Lastname) are truly special. You’re the real joke, you see. At least people laugh at me to my face. They do it behind your back. I do it too. We all do. It took me a while but I finally figured it out. Everyone just pretends to be your friend, (Name). And when you’re not looking they…silently laugh at you. Truly fascinating. But can you really complain? You are not a good friend either. How many times have you dragged me into danger? You stole Eveline’s potions, last year even set Leroy’s hair on fire because h—“

“---Y-you aren’t supposed to know that.”

“(Name) my sweet, everyone knows, it’s common sen—“

“You are not supposed to know that. Only I do. Because only _I_ was there.” Tensing your jaw you raised your wand, pained (colour) irises staring directly at that mocking gaze. Inhaling a short breath, you felt hot tears roll down your cheeks, “I don’t know what you ar—“

“Newt Scamander.” He told, “By the way, your helpless crush on me will no—“

“Newton isn’t that self-aware.” You uttered, an ironic smile pinching at the corners of your cheeks as you pointed your wand at him. In the back of your mind surfaced a DADA lesson you had in your third year. Your shoulders shook, “ _Ridiculus_.”

The figure deflated into a pug dressed as one of Santa’s little helpers, barking and drooling all over the floor before you hexed it into some box and locked it for good measure. The boggarts words still rung in your ears and disoriented you leaned onto a shelf to steady yourself. The eerie silence only tripled their effect. Releasing a ragged breath you slowly rubbed away the salty liquid, feeling drained of any energy you had had prior.

Boggarts realize one’s biggest fears. You guessed you weren’t brave enough to face yours after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> soooooooooooorrrrrrrrrrryyyyyyyyyy for the waiT!!! super busy!!!


	6. Tomorrow.

There he was, red faced and out of breath as he gripped his wand tightly and wandered through the seemingly never-ending library alert and ready. He had heard sounds and steadily approached them, though once they faded only a quiet sobbing of a painting echoed in the big room. He proceeded forward, despite his gut telling him to turn back. And he was most glad he didn’t.

In the far away corner he noted (colour) hair glimmering in the warm lights and he immediately recognized it belonging to you – his heart swelled and he smiled. It fell as he noticed how pale and hollow those cheeks looked, your blank gaze boring holes into a heavy chest from which strange noises and bumps came. You looked sad to him, which in turn made his happiness wilt and he slowed, worry squeezing his chest and absentmindedly he uttered your name.

You snapped as if burned by coals, bringing your hands closer to your chest and as your wand sparked dangerously. Distressed (color) eyes found a boy your age standing ten feet five away and you only eased when you made sure it was him – without a word you examined each and every delicate detail of his face. The silence stretched. Your heart hammered in your chest as shakily your guard was lowered and you slumped, your back softly hitting the bookshelf.

“(N-Name) are you…” Newt approached, “What happened? Are you hurt?...” The loving tone was pleasant to the ear, caressing your skin as he drew closer and closer until you could smell his faint cologne and burned cloth. The pads of his rough fingers grazed your cheek, tenderly, lovingly, as his eyes bore into your own as if trying to find and answer. You froze. He could feel you tense beneath his touch and hesitant he pulled away with a flash of hurt portrayed in his green eyes, “Forgive me, I—“

It was hot and your head hurt. His closeness was equally painful and desperately needed. You gulped, glancing down at your shoes: the wounds the boggart opened were poisoned and would not heal despite you wishing them to. Newt’s image was tainted in your mind, a growing fear of him smirking at you again and mockingly spitting in your face was overpowering. But you knew that this, this man in front of you, was the real him – you felt his radiant heat, his soothing aura, his soft touch on your cheek still tingled. Your eyes widened, if only a little. Was it his first time to touch you? You had grasped his hand many times, caressed and rubbed away the tears from his eyes, but never had he responded the same. You looked up, finding him gazing at you as if you were a perfect painting. Abruptly, though, he looked away, but made no move to step back. You saw his adam apple bob.

Like an arrow pierced your heart you were overwhelmed with the purest form of love. Was the boggart speaking of truth even you did not know? Was this man that important to you? A helpless crush the creature had called it, and perhaps so. But when did this feeling spark, you wondered, when did the fear of losing a friend shifted to losing a lover?

Maybe it bloomed when you first met gazes with him that long ago, yet you were oblivious to your own emotions. He on the other hand realized just how special you were to him much _much_ sooner. Perhaps as soon as when you smiled at him so attentively and played with the Bowtruckle as he only sat and admired. And even now he found himself cupping your cheek and drawing closer than any proper man should, his lips trembling as he released a short breath. Your ears rung as blood ran to your head, making you dizzy, infatuated, as you slowly closed your eyes, leaning into his touch. His breath fanned your lips in a brief moment of hesitation; the distance between you two short yet agonizing.

Your world lit up in fireworks when he kissed you.

And the rest was rust and stardust.

~*~

Never did he imagine himself having the courage to kiss you, never had he imagined he had the audacity to hold you tightly and refuse to let go and never had he imagined he would so desperately need your touch. You looked lovely, so lovely to him in these warm lights – with eyes blazed by fire and lips red like licked red candy. Smelling of crushed daisies and sweat, this scent he found when he nuzzled into your neck as his arms wrapped around you. He closed his eyes, feeling your heave and bend, your head leaning on his as you hugged back. He was still quiet, wordless, stunned by his own bravery and the creeping fear of rejection that soothed as soon as your embraced him. He didn’t know the answer to the silent question and to be frank, at the moment, he didn’t want to. Now he only wished to hold you before you rejected or accepted him. Before the two of you would surface and act as strangers in front of so many eyes. Right now, alone with you, was the only thing he wanted to be.

“Newt…” you whispered his name, it coming out as a short breath. He smiled into the crook of your neck, a bittersweet taste riding on his tongue as he parted from you only to find your eyes. The corners of your lips stretched into a perfect smile, loving and tender, just the way he found it most beautiful. “I…” You trailed off, unsure of what to say. Did you even need to say anything? You were confused, but hesitant to show it.

“Would it be that strange if I confessed that I…” Newt licked his lower lip, “like you?” Your heart spurred like a butterfly shaken awake.

“N-No…” You shook your head, “No, not at all….May I tell you a secret?”

“Anything.”

“I like you too.”

~*~

 And you did surface eventually – the air, fresh and cool, pooled along with the night through open windows. The fourth floor hall was empty – dinner time was your best guess – as you walked alongside him, light on your step as a hum escaped you every once in a  while. He did not hold your hand, perhaps when you two weren’t truly alone he was too shy, but your knuckles would brush ever so often and brighten the already beaming smile on your face. You looked at him, looked for a glimpse of the man that so shamelessly confessed to you a while back. You knew he was there, hiding behind his green eyes that twinkled with his very own form of happiness. He cleared his throat, a half-grin pinching his lips as he glanced at you, his cheeks dyed a shade of rosy red that rose when he had kissed you.

“A-Are you hungry?” He asked. You blinked, the question had caught you off guard and for a moment you pondered – you were a tad hungry, but nothing too severe. If anything you were dreadfully tired and only now did you fully realize so. You shook your head.

“A bit sleepy.”

“Am I that boring?”

“You have no clue, Mister Scamander.”

“I will try to improve my dialogue then, Miss (Lastname).” His smile dimmed, “but if you are tired…Then I shall save another adventure for a different time.”

“Wh-?! More?! Today?! Yes! Yes!”

“I thought you were tired?”

“Played pretend! I’m ready to go if you are!”

“Tomorrow, then. I will be ready tomorrow.”

Your face fell, “Oh…” You trailed off, “Well, alright.” Upbeat, you grinned again, “Where will we go, though?”

“Tomorrow. You will find out tomorrow.”


	7. La Vien En Rose.

“ _Miss (Lastname)_!”

Morning had just rose and you were on your way to breakfast – you wanted to get there early so you’d have time to fly around before classes – when a familiar voice called you by name. You stopped on the steps, turning your head and smiling softly when you recognised the short strawberry-blond haired boy catching up to you. Horace Slughorn was more of Eveline’s friend than yours, given their mutual love for potions, but you had a chance to converse with him once in a while and he did seem like one of the nicer Slytherin’s.

“On your way to breakfast, are we?” You nodded at the question and the two of you fell into step, “Pardon me, Miss (Lastname), I am not used to asking for favours, but Miss de’Bach has told me many things about you and I truly do trust you…” Your brows knitted together softly as you listened carefully for what he wanted. Your face lit up in a brilliant grin and you nodded.

~*~

Owl’s flooded the Great Hall with daily mail. Newt and Leta sat scooted together by the Hufflepuff table, eagerly discussing the new project she was working on for days and nights – Newt had been so caught up with you he felt bad for leaving Leta out, and in turn shared a bit of his own discoveries. As she was talking for a moment her voice was drowned by loud laughter of Gryffindor’s Newt came to recognize – his eyes flashed to the entrance where your group of friends piled in chatting about one thing or another. His eyes scanned for untamed (color) hair but found it missing from the group. He frowned. From there on out he was alert, glancing at your table ever so often for your presence but you never showed up.

His worry only grew when you missed all of your morning classes. Lunch was fast approaching. Your friends started to worry - Eveline even trotted to him with a disgusted glint in her magnificent eyes as she asked, “Have you seen her?” Newt replied with a strained and quiet ‘ _No’_ and she bugged off, questioning others. The tension grew as the bell rang.

Newt sat worried by his table, unable to take his eyes away from the empty spot by Kevin Quill – even the Quidditch player seemed uncomfortable and kept staring at the main entrance as if you’d burst in any given moment. Eveline bit on her nails, hissing something under hear breath as her normally pale complexion was dyed with red spots of worry. Newt felt on edge – it was not like you to so suddenly disappear. What if something happened to you? Perhaps you stumbled upon another secret and got lost? Or worse – got hurt and could not get help? He gulped. His foot tapped, unable to hold still he fiddled with his silverware as if that would help him calm down. You didn’t show up to lunch either.

Charms. Newt was sick from worry. His heart hammered in his chest as horrible scenarios played in his mind and by accident he had wrote the same line six times before catching himself. He blinked, lifting his eyes up – from here he could see the Charms professor clearly as your seat was vacant yet again. Eveline’s hands were trembling.

Newt jolted when the heavy door was flung open and a panting, messy haired and clothed Gryffindor girl rushed in with a grey leather tomb pressed to her side. Newt sucked in a sharp breath, relief flooding him and he leaned back in his seat. Your smudged lips formed a shy smile, “Sorry I am late, professor!”

~*~

He had managed to catch you after Eveline was finished screaming for making her worry. Only now did he notice how pale you looked – eyes were glazed and confused, the skin off your cheeks oily and dirtied with ash. You smelled of ash too. The tips of your shabby hair were burned, those delicate hands grasping the book adored with white bandages. Newt examined your body closely before lifting his eyes to yours, unsure of what to say, or where to start to be exact.

“ _What_ …what happened to you?” He asked slowly, his voice low and somber. His fingers grasped yours and gently he examined the rough surface of the bandage. You felt yourself grow hot and you glanced away

“Sorry if I made you worry…” You murmured, “I was practicing magic.” That was answer he did not expect.

“I am to assume magic that has left you…ravished?” All he got for an answer was a nod, “And where did you practice?”

“The Forbidden Forrest.” His grip suddenly tightened as a look of sheer terror passed his face before falling back to normal and he released a heavy breath and let you go. You looked innocent, so innocent he couldn’t even be mad at you for playing with fire. He wanted to ask what magic, what magic was so powerful the school’s nurse couldn’t heal it – he felt you shiver under his touch as he pressed gently on your hands – and what magic was to be reserved for such a dangerous place rather than an unnamed empty classroom somewhere in the castle?

But he didn’t. He didn’t ask anything. Just smiled gently, avoiding your gaze like he normally did. Newt shuffled from foot to foot, his eyes briefly flashing to the students on their way to last classes or the courtyard – the weather was much colder today and unconsciously he fiddled with his grey and yellow scarf. He jerked suddenly, mumbling something you couldn’t catch and unwrapped the warm fabric from his neck, “Here…” he murmured, delicately placing it on your shoulders, “You will fall ill if you don’t keep warm.”

You were not quick to reply, relishing in joy as you admired the knitted scarf, but alas, you smiled and said “I…have to give this to Horace.” You showed him the heavy book, “He asked me to get it from that place we visited yesterday. I suppose he saw us exist. That or someone had told him…Either way, I was spending the bigger part of my day in search of this…” You ran your finger across the bound grey leather.

“What is in it?”

“Complex potions and poisons… They do not teach us this…Not anymore, at least.” Your smile dimmed, “My best guess is that too many students succeeded in making _Liquid Luck_ and this practice was banned. That or…too many didn’t.” You said, “You wanted to show me something, had you not? I’ll come find you once I return this!”

“I-It’s nothing important!” He called after you as you rushed down the hallway. You turned back; catching his gaze, “Just…” you returned to him, curious. He religiously avoided your curious eyes, “Hogsmede…”

“I’d love to.” You told before he could even ask the question. Surprised, the boy blinked, his cheeks a flaming red before a brilliant smile lit up his face, “Catch you later!”

~*~

The harsh wind pinched your red cheeks and pulled on your hair as you pressed your limbs together; morning, the sky is irritated with clouds. Piles of snowflakes danced in the air and landed on your edged hat, your quick (colour) irises roaming around the courtyard for the Hufflepuff batch – your house, Ravenclaw and Slytherin were eagerly waiting for the fourth to show up and be on their merry way to Hogsmede. A big winter coat weighed down your shoulders, your form getting lost in the mass. Behind the flaps warmly laid a knit scarf that belonged to Newt Scamander, it perfumed with herbs, honey and his mellow cologne. You stood by your group and admired how Leroy showed off on his broom (just a few feet above ground) and how Eveline clapped her hands and smiled brighter than the sun. Kevin Quill stood beside you, counting the snowflakes on your nose, a smile brimming his features once your eyes met. You were oblivious to the tenderness behind his iris and in turn decided to ruin the moment and tell an unfunny joke he laughed at anyway because he liked you so.

“ _Finally_! You’d think they’d be first and all…” Your heart spurred when your housemate huffed and snapping your head you noted a happy bunch of yellow scarfed students pool in, “Took you long enough!”

“Sod off, will ya?” The boy joked, linking arms with the girl. The head teacher approved to leave. Kevin cleared his throat, trying to catch your attention but it was jumping from place to place.

A grin bloomed on your face and you took an excited step forward once you saw Newt shyly walking beside Leta – her head was ducked, her lips moving fiercely. But he was not listening. Noting you in the crowd he waved, faltering when Kevin’s glare pierced him like a needle. Newt gulped, for a split second meeting your eyes – shinning like small stars in the dimness of the morning. He stopped moving, in turn, a curious Leta stopped as well.

“Excuse me, dear Leta.” Newt said, offering an apologetic smile before uneasily making his way to you. Eveline’s happy mood was washed away as her brows knitted together, but before she, or anyone, could say a word you rushed to him, engulfing him in a tight hug. The tension in the air rose drastically, but you didn’t notice that either.

Newt, taken aback, though happy, hesitantly wrapped his arms around your waist and pushed you closer, savouring you apple-sweet scent and how the smooth fabric of your hat tickled his chin. Parting, he couldn’t help but blush as you grinned at him so lovingly – in turn he smiled back. Wiping your head back you saw a displeased group of Quidditch players, but even that didn’t stop you from saying, “See you in the Common Room, yeah?” as your friends raised their brows and lanced the shy Hufflepuff with their disapproving stares, you grasped his hand firmly and led him away, the smile never leaving your face.

But the world, although forgotten by the two of you, did not stop spinning. Leta Lestrange was rooted in place on those cold slippery steps as a burning bitter taste flooded her mouth, a fire of anger, one she was not used, sparking in her chest as her dark eyes trailed the patted coat you wore with hurt and envy. She knew what you were. She knew what your friends were, and they were people who were not kind to another unless they met a certain criteria, and Leta was positive that Newt didn’t. So why were the two of you together?

You wanted to hurt him, she had conducted. _And she would stop at nothing **to** **stop** **you**_.

..

..

You listened intently as in a quiet tone that jumped every so often Newt told you about various creatures that resided in Hogwarts and around it. Some parts of his speech were bitten off my the wind that howled and the smack of cold snow getting in your eyes, but other than that you found out much more than you planned to. Your mind, albeit trying it’s best to not drift away into a pleasant daydream about what had happened in the secret library, managed to slip and wander – on such occasions you blush and glance away happily, whilst Newt thought it was because you were fascinated by Billyweeds and didn’t know how to express it. Not that you weren’t, but to tell the truth you were more fascinated by him.

It felt as if your heart beat as one, your hands fitting perfectly in one another like long lost puzzle pieces finally brought together. The walk to Hogsmede, stretching for roughly an hour now only seemed but a couple of minutes. You threw your head back and laughed loudly as the two of you passed the sign that told ‘ _Welcome to Hogsmede_!’ in bright red letters. Students started branching off into their own small groups and eagerly trotting to various shops that were open. The snow storm got worse every second. The two of you did not have much of a choice on where to linger and with a pull on his hand you led him to _The Three Broomsticks_ to warm up and dry.

Warm. Hot fumes from tea and the sweet smell of butterbeer dawdled in the air as you greedily inhaled with a smile. You looked at Newt, who was shaking the snowflakes out his hair, as if to ask ‘ _Brilliant, isn’t it_?’ before stepping away from the doorway and taking off your bucket hat. The décor was plain and simple: the wooden chairs, stools and table emitted mixed scents of previously spilled drinks of perfume bottles. A fire danced in the stone fireplace, above which a large bore’s head oinked and laughed at some joke a group of drinking wizards had told it.

You found a seat by a window, taking off your patted coat and hanging it, your hand trembling lightly. You did not take off the gifted scarf. Relatively quick you returned to the table by which he already sat by, his fingers hooked together as with interest he watched people scram to shelter or play in the snow. He jerked once a snowball flung to the window. You merely giggled in return.

“I always come here with Eveline.” You started, noting the sudden shift in mood in him. You continued, though a bit hesitant, “We always order butterbeer and chocolate truffles… they’re really good, just perhaps a bit too sweet…” You hooked a loose strand of hair behind the red tip of your ear as he inspected the stains of liquor on the table, “I know you aren’t…Fond of her, exactly. But I promise, _I promise I promise I promise_ she is a good person! She is just looking out for me, like any friend would…Yes, I do agree that her and especially Kevin’s actions may seem… _vile_ …”You glanced away, “But they are harmless, really. I’m sure they will warm up to you eventually. But until then please tell me if they are causing you trouble. I will nick them on the head and they will bug off.” You finished lighter, smiling up at the approaching owner who lazily dragged her eyes over her inn. Behind her a spurring bright green quill tapped impatiently on a notepad floating on air. She asked for you order and it much surprised you when the ever quiet Scamander pipped up ‘ _Two butterbeers and a box of chocolate truffles, please._ ’ Was what he said, making you shyly glance out the window with a pleased smile.

The bell shimmed and a cool draft picked on your skin. The chatter in the inn did not stop. Music played lowly from an old magical radio that spouted something about ‘ _Muggle music hour_!’. You murmured a thank you once she set two glasses of drink on your table and watched her stride back to the bar and entertain a drunkard. You then turned back to Newt: on his way here he could hardly shut up but now all he could do was stare anywhere but you and fidget, sometimes giving you a smile for the lack of conversing. You figured he was being shy again, confined by his own low confidence as perhaps when the two of you were alone he was more at ease. Idly his fingers wrapped around the cup, his skin burning from the heat but he did not pull away.

“Have you tried butterbeer before?” You asked, following in his example and lifting the drink to your lips. The scent tickled your nose.

“I have, actually.” He told, not missing a beat, “Though I must say compared to you I am still a novice. Many trips to Hogsmede have been missed by me, and to those I did go I spent at _Baltray’s Pet Shop_.” He licked his dry lips, “They have fascinating Bellcords there. Small fluffy creatures that bark like dogs but have a face that of a parrot. They do bite though. Be alert if one nears you unexpectedly.”

“We can go there today,” You offered, “after the storm clears, I mean.” You glanced out the window, seeing some poor third year holding onto a streetlamp as the wind nearly blew him away. “I don’t think it would be wise to leave at the moment.”

“Your speculation is correct, as always.”

Blowing on your drink you took a shy sip, your mouth watering and flaming from the delicious taste. The drink settled in your stomach and made your cheeks heat. You released a short breath though your nose. Newt released a breathy laugh.

“You…you, _uhm_ ,” He murmured, “You got something…” Seeming polite he tried not to point with his fingers, offering you an amused smile as you blinked, hurriedly wiping away the milk moustache with the back of your sleeve.

“Thanks…” You murmured.

“Madame Rosmerta!” A boisterous voice called somewhere near the bar, “May I?” You briefly glanced at the commotion and saw an unfamiliar man with a heavy travel cloak tapping his wand on the old radio. The owner nodded with a cheeky smile curling on her lips as she continued to clean her glass.

 

_[(Music)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kFzViYkZAz4) _

 

The music rose in tone, silencing the chatting men and women in the inn to listen. The song was unfamiliar, but smooth, delicate in a way as a French tongue continued to cast its magic. The same wizard held out his hand for Rosmerta and with red cheeks she agreed. Empty tables cleared and made space to dance. The lanterns dimmed. You looked at Newt, your heart spurring in your chest as you found him watching you intently with a half-smile and a magnificent glint in his green eyes. He cleared his throat, taking one more sip of his drink before setting it down and standing up. Men started to round the bar, extending their hands for ladies of all statues. Giggles rang out and more people greeted the dancefloor.

Newts hand trembled as it hung in the air. He licked his lower lip, inhaling a warm breath of confidence and uttering “Shall we?” as with awe he watched a most beautiful smile light up your face. You set down your drink next to his, gently laying your hand in his and lifting yourself up from your seat. Your fingers tingled pleasantly, cheeks dying a rosy red when you stopped next to the happily swaying couples. Newt fixed his posture, grasping your hand gently as the other landed on your waist. Your chest lightly grazed his as you tilted your head upwards to watch his freckle kissed skin heat. Slowly, the two of you fell into rhythm.

The world melted around you again as the light touch of alcohol that resided in your favourite drink finally hit you up the head and you closed your glazed eyes, your ears caressed by the beautiful song. Your head swayed softly, flocks of (color) hair dancing in the blousy lights. When you weren’t so intently admiring him he felt more content in watching your peaceful features shift and bend to lovely and back. Your hand felt hot through the fabric of his clothes. Perhaps you were standing too close, but you being even an inch away felt like it would hurt. With a dreamy look he smiled as your eyelashes fluttered adorably and you looked up at him with those angelic eyes of yours. Magical, is what he would use to describe this feeling he knew the two of you shared. Better than any adventure, any spell or any creature he has encountered with and without you. His eyes lingered on your rose petal lips for longer than they should have. He nearly choked, ashamed of his own thoughts and hurriedly looked away only to see Miss Rosemerta grinning devilishly at the shorter wizard – the culprit of this romantic dance.

“Makes you wonder why the school does not host a graduation dance…” You suddenly spoke up quietly. Your attention then drifted to the passionately kissing couple just five feet ten away from you.

“I suppose you got your answer…” Newt told amused, insisting on not even glancing in that direction. You merely giggled, feeling light on your feet. A cool breeze tickled the back of your neck as the bell chimed again, though hardly anyone paid any attention. Your smile only brightened, and softly you came to rest your head on his chest. His whole form tensed and you heard his breath hitch, but it all soon fell into place. His quick heartbeat, perhaps even matching the pace of your own, reached your ear and you closed your eyes again.

Much too soon the song ended, the room deafened by polite clapping and ringing laughter riddled with sweet kisses and coy words. Begrudgingly, inhaling a deep breath you pulled away, wishing to kiss him above all else but you knew this was not the place of the time. By the looks of it, Newt had similar ideas. He brought your knuckles to his lips, pecking each hand softly before smiling and letting go.

“Well, Bousteour!? What are you waiting for?! Another song! The ladies are waiting!” A man yelled. Music flooded the inn again. With a sheepish grin Newt shyly hooked hands with you again.

The day was long, after all. And it was a perfect way to spend it.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay! So a couple of things... This story takes place 1913, as this is our beloved Newt's sixth year (I have carefully AND correctly calculated this!!). Prof. Slughorn is said to be born somewhere between 1881 and 1914, so we can simply place him in the same time-frame and have his birthday on 1897 (which is also the year Newt was born).  
> Other! I'm using the name Rosmerta since no previous owner of the Three Broomsticks is listed (just think of her like a predecessor to the Rosmerta we know!)  
> Lastly! If you are familiar with me and my writing you know something is coming. I don't wanna spoil, but when do I ever write a happy ending? enjoy it while you can.  
>  all for now! thank you everyone!!! <3 lot's and lot's and lot's of love! xx


	8. Yule Ball.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not canonically correct, and it is not supposed to be tied in with the plotline of Peculiar, but I wanted to write it anyway. Just think of it as an AU or something...either way, happy late holidays! <3

It had taken all of his courage, despite the two of you now being together, to make those words spill from his mouth. It was a big jumble of incoherent meek murmurs but you most certainly understood what Newt Scamander had in mind when in a heated breath he mumbled, “this—Yule-I…maybe, you…have…” his hands then jittered in the air as if it would be easier to convey his point, “…please?” the look in his magnificent green eyes was hopeful and strained with cracking nerves. The tension in the air – one he was imagining, no doubt – was deflated along with his tensed shoulders as a brilliant smile bloomed on your face with a small tint of a blush on your cheeks.

“Oh! I’d love to go with you!” Without much though, and blinded by the new found joy, you leaned in and gave his flaming hot cheek a quick peck, your grin never dimming, even when you pulled away and noted him being uncomfortably stiff. Waving the small package in your hands perhaps only then did you notice the disapproving hooks of owls seated where the two of you were – the Owelry. Newt’s fingers came to graze where your lips just moments ago touched. “I…” his reaction prompted an awkward sort of chill to shake your spine and you faltered, glancing away, “I, _uhm_ \- I have to—“ now you were making as little sense as he was. Finally you tapped the box wrapped in blank parchment as a distraction, before adding, “Have to send this…For Christmas…” Your explanation, though vague, was clear enough and he nodded.

“I-I will wait for you on the steps, then.” Newt blurred; despite the Owelry being so big it now felt almost suffocating, and he knew that if he were to stay he would not resist in pulling you into an embrace. Which was highly inappropriate.

“Careful!” you called after him, “They are slippery!”

Fast forward a couple of days and you find yourself at the same situation, though this one wasn’t nearly as pleasant as the first. You had dealt your third rejection that day – two Ravenclaw’s and a Gryffindor had asked you to attend the Yule Ball, all confident that you would agree. With a harsh slap of reality and a friendly, though lame, smile and sweet words of ‘ _No, sorry, someone already asked me and I said yes_.’ they hurriedly shuffled away to collect their pride. What you found yourself in then was much more complicated, a situation a smile and a robotic rejection could not fix.

Kevin Quill stood hopeful, his eyes trying to catch yours but you were avoiding his gaze as much as you were avoiding answering his, although playfully executed, serious request. You could feel the weight behind his simple “ _Go to the Yule Ball with me_ ”, and felt at a loss on how to reply. Your fingers hooked together and you fiddled with them for a moment, taking in a deep breath to calm your racing heart and with a sad flare in your iris you finally managed to look up at him.

“ _Oh_ , Kevin, I’m really sorry.” You told carefully, making sure to lace each word with honest feeling. “But someone already asked me out and…and I said yes.”

And finally, the night was here.

You felt light on your feet as hurriedly they carried you through the dimmed castle hallways. You were late, big surprise there, and before you fell into the Grand Staircase you took out your wand and waved it by your hair, making sure it’s threads were curled to perfection just like Eveline had told. Your dress was dashing – your mother once hearing of such an event was more than delighted to find you something eye catching in the Muggle market, whilst later on Sonna Day had carefully charmed it to sparkle, not profusely mind you, as you knew that if you were to attempt such a spell you would most likely set the dress on fire. You tugged on the corners of it, lifting it up as not to trip – the fabric, so velvety and soft, tickled your fingers.

By the time you could hear the distant chatter and see the warm lights by the Grand Hall you were completely out of breath and stopped, leaning on a nearby wall to collect yourself before you made your big entrance. The rush of being late died down and now you were left with only a tingle of excitement that pooled at the center of your chest and tightened; you grinned, clapping your hands quietly. A portrait hanging above you, that of a rosy cheeked woman, swooned.

“You look so lovely, my dear!” A dramatic pause, “ _Please_! _Oh mon deu_! Go to your prince before he wilts from waiting!” and wilt he might since you were much behind schedule.

Again you felt a pang of nervousness tickle the inside of your stomach but with much restraint you fixed a lovely look on your face, your smile twitching upwards but you tried to hold it down. You took slow steps forward and soon your body was rained with warm oil lights as you stopped near the last fifteen steps you were to take. The door was still closed. The chatter, if only for a brief moment, seemed to halt as everyone set their eyes on you – instead of feeling confined you felt nothing more but joy. You took slow steps down, eagerly searching for a shaky Hufflepuff that had asked you to be here exactly three weeks ago.

And there Newt was, gawking like an idiot at the sight of you and feeling unbelievably lucky that your beauty was conserved only for him tonight, a twinkle of male pride, something he had never felt before, making him inhale a deep breath of satisfaction. As your eyes met he couldn’t help but grin and seeing you mimic him made him almost giggidy. His quick strides carried him to your side nearly instantly and he blushed – he had hoped not to seem too desperate. He extended his clothed elbow to you, wordlessly asking ‘ _Shall we_?’ and with a grin you hooked your arm around his. The heat of his body transfixed even through the thin layer of clothes. Your eyes ran down the students yet again: you found the same three blokes in the far right, grinning at you and nodding your way in approval, an array of your girl friends that sent cheeky smile and kissy faces, but lastly, and begrudgingly, you met the piercing gaze of Eveline de’Bach who was all things but happy or pleased to see you with Newt Scamander. Behind her Kevin’s expression was similar, only Leroy looked cheerful and he was the one that waved at you. Shyly, you waved back.

The big doors opened and the reception flooded with cool winter lights. Glancing at Newt you found him already staring, his eyes taking in your form and stopping at your lips before heading back and so forth. When you caught his gaze he blushed, offering but a loopy grin before uttering, “You look absolutely stunning tonight.”

Hands linked, you moved in. A cool chill creept up your spine as awe washed over you and you stared at the ornate decorations, ranging from impressive glaziers of gazelles and swans to small snowflakes falling from the enchanted ceiling and tangling in your hair. Newt held a similar expression, and sharing a look yet again the both of you giggled like small children at a candy store. Or pet store, as it would fit Newt better. The whole of students marched forward to the circled area, not loitered with impressive round flowered tables, for dancing, where the orchestra and teachers stood patiently waiting. The two of you stopped further ways back and whilst you couldn’t quite see what was happening, you could hear it clearly.

“Welcome, to another year at Hogwarts. We do not hold this dance every year, fact of the matter being it is my firm belief that our brave gentleman would meet an early demise if they had to ask out one of our ever beautiful girls every year.” There was a note of playfulness in the headmasters voice, “That and, of course, such an event should be rare for it to be cherished. I hope you may enjoy this fine evening and have a moment to relax before getting back to your studies.” Music followed almost immediately, drowning out his words.

A collective hesitation made the students halt from flooding the dance floor, though not you, as gripping Newt’s arm tighter you pushed your way to the front, Eveline hot on your tail. Your movement seemed to shake the rest out of their daze and some couples followed suit. Once you positioned yourself, you smiled up at Newt who, albeit lost and a tad confused, looked absolutely delighted. The orchestra stopped.

“Put your hand on my waist.” You said. His sheepish smile fell.

“What?

“My waist.” With a wheeze of the trombone music filled the Great Hall. With a jerk you practically yanked his hand and placed it on your waist, your fingers coming to clasp his as the two of you started to waltz in a rushed, uneven and awkward manner.

“Is that…Is that (Name) (Lastname)? The Seeker? With _Scamander_?!”

“I believe so!…She looks beautiful!”

“But WITH _Scamander_!?” From what you could faintly catch over the whale of the orchestra were titbits of gossip. You smiled lovingly at Newt once his shoulders stiffened and he shyly glanced at his feet – he must’ve heard them too. You nudged him softly.

“Don’t mind them…” You murmured, “I’m glad to be here with you.” That was enough to lift his spirits in a heartbeat, his suave charm, one you found before you for the first time ever, nearly making you swoon as he offered you a dashing grin. He fell into step easily, his fingers suddenly leaving yours as they gripped your sides and lifted you up with a spin as if you were no lighter than a feather. Your heart hammered in your chest from such an action, a squeal escaping your lips along with a melodious laugh as he lifted you again, this time with more confidence.

The danced continued like this, from the ever romantic waltz to the newest pop hits and you even heard this flowing music of jazz for the first time. It had instantly made you giggidy and gripping Newt’s hands tingly you ordered him to dance along with you. He obliged, seeming pleased.

You had only left the dance floor when your feet started to hurt. You were not the only one, though, as many couples now were scattered all over, some already calling it a night whilst the others quietly slipped away for some adventure.

“—See, If I were a Magizoologist, I believe I could help solve this problem. I truly think it is barbaric to kill magical creatures…” Slow and soft music echoed in the Great hall, the two of you seated on a faraway table, sipping on punch to ease the exhaustion. “Rather than exterminating we should be saving them.” He then looked at you, “There is only so much magic in the world.”

“You should write a book,” You told, “maybe that would get people to listen.” You took another sip, an idea flaring in your mind, “How about… _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_?” He seemed taken aback by your words, his eyes flaring with something brilliant, but what you could not say. His proximity became painfully obvious – the sudden heat that his skin radiated rippled your own exposed shoulders and made a shudder crawl down your spine. You gulped, your throat yet again dry but this time it had nothing to do with you previous enthusiastic dancing. Newt leaned in, if ever so gently at that, his long fingers wrapping around your hand, his thumb caressing your knuckles in a loving manner. His green irises flashed from your eyes, to your lips and back, making whatever meek breath you had drawn in halt. _This was not the time and place for a kiss_ , your mind spoke pointedly, but you didn’t have enough strength to care. Perhaps it was exhaustion, or maybe the sudden dizzying feeling that struck your head like a lightning bolt, but you met him half-way without an ounce of hesitation.

Your lips melted into his in a sweet kiss. He groaned, an action you felt more than heard and both embarrassed and excited you hurriedly pulled away as did he, unable to look at one another. You couldn’t help the smile that pulled on the corners of your lips, your cheeks probably matching the bright colour of the punch. Newt didn’t let go, though, but couldn’t face you either.

Like hell fire raining down from above you snapped once a high pitched voice yelled your name out angrily, and a few feet away you found Eveline looking furious. She marched to you and you felt your face pale. She seemed struggling to find the words to express just how upset she was and crossing her arms over her chest she fixed a look on her face that would be considered a sneer.

“ _What are you doing_?” Her voice was as piercing as the look in her fiery eyes. You pried your lips to speak, the tingling sensation still lingering on them, like a small child caught with his hands in the cookie jar. “Never mind!” She snapped, making you jolt. Newt blinked, too loopy to process what was going on, “ _Off to bed_!” Eveline commanded. As if bewitched, you hopped on your feet frightened, along with Newt. Eveline ripped your hand out of his, “ _Now_.” She threw it like a piece of trash and watched you like a hawk, waiting for you to burst into a fit of anger. But you didn’t. Instead, you wilted under her sharp gaze and looked down, your fingers gripping into fists before you pushed past the both of them and rushed out the Hall. Found alone with poor Scamander Eveline flared ever more so, taking a dangerous step closer to him, “If you ever…I repeat, _if you ever hurt her_ you freak I will end you.”

With a huff, she turned on her heel and trotted away. Thankfully what little was left of an audience was too preoccupied with their own endeavours to keep track of his.

He did not expect the night to end the way it did. But despite the confrontation, he was stupidly happy. So that with a light step he grabbed his cloak and walked out grinning happily. The kiss you planted on his lips remained there as a fresh memory and he found himself aimlessly searching for you again. After roughly an hour of checking each one of your favourite spots he had conducted that you were most likely at the Gryffindor common room, a place sadly out of his reach. He felt disappointed he couldn’t make sure if you were all right after such a harsh confrontation. To be fair, he still was on edge himself.

Finally, Newt Scamander sighed heavily and made his way to his bedchambers. He will catch you during breakfast tomorrow, and if not he will linger near the portrait of the Fat Lady all day if he must just to see you again. With a plan in mind, he murmured the password and quietly closed his eyes, only now realizing how tired he was.

 ** _End_**.


	9. Honey.

Thursday. Dinner. The castle was cold. The knit Hufflepuff scarf was wrapped neatly around your neck as you released a breath of amazement and with stars in your eyes gazed at the ever excited tall student beside you. He shuffled forward, swiftly maneuvering through large barrels of various goods.

“See, it has a protection charm…! Usually it does not let other houses through…”

And you had thought you heard him wrong the first time. Why on earth did Newt Scamander want to drag you into the Hufflepuff Common room you had no idea, all he said was ‘ _It is a surprise’_ and _‘I believe you will very much like it’_. It almost seemed like your bad influence was starting to rub off on him.

“…not even _Polyjuice_ works! But I think that if I talk to… _Hello_!” You tilted your head to the side, trying to catch a glimpse of who he was conversing with – it was dark here, light shuffling could be heard ways down to the kitchens. All you could see was the tip of his long black cloak and with a small sigh you patiently waited for him to return. Newt was speaking fast again – either anxious or excited, but to be fair there was hardly a difference with him. When he returned he wore a joyous grin, unconsciously grasping your hand and pulling you along and through the dark entrance of the portrait.

Honey. The Hufflepuff Common room held a smell of honey and warm milk, the pleasant sound of cracking fire and the magnificent scent of it all making your head briefly spin before you grasped his hand tighter to return to reality. Your lips pried open and you took in a warm breath of amazement; up on the ceiling floated small oil lamps that emitted a yellowish glow, the whole airy room resembling more of a tavern than anything – there were many stools and tables and you figured it was because the room was so close to the kitchens. Way above your head stood round windows that, behind a potted plant on each one, showed the subtle darkness of the night. Wines and plants were placed at seemingly most random of places, the strong greenery of big and small leafs painting a pretty image on the otherwise plain stone walls. Couches held a small set of patches of dirt – though you doubted they were actually in need of cleaning – it was more of an aesthetic, no doubt. Lastly, up the stone brim of the playful fireplace a portrait of a pleasantly smiling woman sat comfortably and you immediately recognized her to be Helena Hufflepuff herself.

Unconsciously or not, you shifted closer to Newt when your eyes met the dark ones of hers. You wondered would she be mad if she saw those bright red colours of a rival house - that perhaps Newt would even get in trouble. But nothing happened, fact of the matter being the portrait never stopped to smile – on the glossing shift in her dark gaze went from somewhat dull to warm and greeting. Newt was too busy looking around if the coast was clear to notice any of this and only when he confirmed did he pull you closer to one of the round shaped doors. You were a bit taken aback – it was your first time seeing him so genuinely eager.

What you found yourself in next, after a bit of walking, was a beehive shaped room with five beds, greatly resembling the courtiers of your own House. Except in this one, the beds were of polished honey-covered wood and had silky bright yellow curtains instead of maroon ones. Newt let go and you stood by the doorway, feeling your heart starting to race in your chest. Why were you here? Your cheeks tinted with a soft blush as your eyes watched Newt fiddle with, presumably, his trunk. As he opened it he tilted his head to you, hurriedly prying his gaze away once he noted the flash of nervousness on your face. He licked his lower lip, blinking rapidly before saying, “I know this may seem… _odd_.” He cleared his throat, “But I will…I will need you to follow me.”

You raised a brow as if to ask, ‘ _To where exactly_?’. The question must’ve been clear since a grin pulled on Newt’s lips, and gazing back into the depths of the massive dark leather case he stood straight and dipped one leg in. Frozen you watched as he slowly lowered himself way above his head before getting lost completely. A silent minute passed. Somewhere behind you a laugh echoed. Newt’s hand darted out the surface, waiving you in. Unsure, you approached cautiously, nearly jerking when the door which leads to the array of bedchambers opened. With an adrenaline rush you jumped in and the lid closed behind you.

A strong pair of arms caught you from meeting the harsh ground, your sides bruised from the fierce grip as carefully you opened one (color) eye: a blurry image of Newt’s face shined in your vision. You felt your body flush against his, your arms hooked around his neck – must’ve done that when you were falling. Gulping quietly you admired the freckles on his nose and the loopy grin on his ever kissable lips before you met his gaze and grinned yourself.

“What an entrance…” He murmured, his hot breath fanning your lips, “Perhaps I should’ve warned you about the drop…”

“Is it safe to assume you didn’t on purpose?” The only response you got was his brightening smile and it was enough to make you giggle. The sweet moment didn’t last for very long, however, as the intensity of his gaze was cut away from your eyes to stare at something behind you. Newt then broke apart, too focused to notice the shimmer of disappointment, as he circled around you and only now did you fully take the area in.

You stood in a small forest. A very own…small forest hiding in his trunk accompanied with coyly chirping birds and a clear blue sky. The sun shone brightly here, so that you raised your hand to shield your sensitive eyes as they scanned in and about. With a brilliant awe-struck smile you turned to Newt, noticing him fiddle by a three which more than three Bowtruckle’s sat patiently.

“Is… _is that_ -?!” You gaped, rushing to his side.

“Pickett.” You noted the small Bowtruckle that clung to his finger, “he missed you. I thought you’d… you’d want to see him again. You did promise him a gift, after all…” His eyes then found the beady one’s of the Bowtruckle, “(Name) is well now, Pickett. You may stop the hunger strike.” The small creature almost seemed ecstatic as hurriedly he climbed into your palm and nestled there.

“I missed you too, Pickett…”

“You may take him, if you want.” Newt said, “He does like you more than me…Plus, the others…” he sent a wary look at the tree, “They believe I favour him. “ With a stern look he pointed a finger, “Which is _not true_. I love you all _equally_.”

“Oh! That would be lovely!” You squealed, “And the faces of the girls when they’d see him! They would freak!” Newt’s heart tumbled at the word, but he did not show it, “ _But_ …” you suddenly wilted, the brilliant grin wiped clean from your face as carefully you placed the small creature on your shoulder and gave it a tender caress on the side, “They may hurt him, and I cannot risk that.” You then glanced at Newt, “I think the others will continue to throw accusations at you. Sorry.”

“Nothing I can’t manage…Now then, if you may…”

The area was small and remote and the very lengths of Newt’s magical abilities impressed you and he could tell. To say that he was proud was an understatement. He couldn’t help but puff his chest with a confident half-grin as he showed and explained things to you whilst you listened and helped him tend to the few creatures he was nursing back to health before releasing. For how long did the two of you work he had no clue, since the sun never stopped shinning.

…

…

…

And where you found yourself next was an embrace, your head laying on his chest and hearing his heart hammer almost painfully as those strong arms that held you close trembled from fright. Slowly, your gaze drifted to Newt’s face – flushed and oily, thin lines of worry knitting his brows together as he stared at the curtain that separated the safe space of his bed to the rest of the room. Shuffles and smiles could be heard through the thin, though not see-through, fabric, as you were momentarily frozen, going so far as forgetting to breathe.

As you two surfaced the atmosphere was playful and happy, lazily he had stumbled to his bedside table to take out something else he wanted to show you since you were already here – at that very moment movement behind the boy’s quarters had halted him, and with the trunk already closed he instantly yanked on your arm and pulled you to bed – murmuring apologies as you winced from his grip – and waved his wand with his spare hand. The curtains closed shut just as his roommate walked in.

You released the softest gush of air, your cheeks stinging from heat as your fingers curled at his chest and dug into the velvety fabric of his dress shirt. You saw his adams apple bob, his lidded dark green gaze focusing away from you. His hold on you eased, if ever so slightly, his fingers coming to caress your sides but was it to calm him or you - you hadn’t the faintest of clue. Your hair tickled his chin. The lights in the room dimmed, drowning your bodies in darkness and if you weren’t this close you probably wouldn’t be able to see him at all. Shadows danced as you slowly lifted your head from his chest to look at the faint outlines of his face. The orderly buzz of magic, or was it something else, had drawn you closer, close enough for your noses to touch. You had finally managed to capture his brilliant iris, it shimmering with golden sparks of affection, before you let your eyes fall shut and---

“Newton? You here?” You jerked away, snapping your head to the swaying curtain behind which an unfamiliar figure approached rapidly. Newt took a moment to shake himself awake and clearing his dry throat he sat up.

“Y-Yes, Christopher. I’m here.”

The figure stopped, “Oh, all right then. Hope I didn’t disturb your sleep! Good night.”

It wasn’t sleep the friendly Hufflepuff had disturbed, but it was for the best that he did. Embarrassed, you stared into the honey glossed wooden edge of his bed, letting your mind race at the same speed your heart spurred in your chest.  “ _You must leave when they fall asleep_.” He uttered into your ear, the sensation making a shudder crawl up your spine and you weren’t able to contain it. His low tone seemed to ring in the whole confined space; caressing the sides of your face and making you draw in a deep breath that was filled with his very own scent and a faint whiff of dirt and honeysuckles. Gently, your head twitched to the side, your hot cheek grazing the very edge of his trembling lower lip as your eyes met from the umpteenth time that day, but this one was different – Newt was always refined and tender, he wore his heart on his sleeve and the very inner corners of his mind shone through his green irises, but this time all you saw was a man looking at you the way all girls wished to be looked at. With a certain gentle tone but rough around the edges, the bright green colour now resembling dark tea leafs and you were sure it was not due to the low lighting. Excitement pooled and dropped to your abdomen as you admired his features, your pale rose lips sucking the hot fumes of air as an attempt to cool, but it only made you hotter.

His closeness was intoxicating; almost agonizing as for a while you could do nothing but fix your gaze at his lips as if prompting him to kiss you. Newt did no such thing though, a show of inhuman restraint as his eyes darted to the movement behind the curtain and back to you. He did not dare let himself forget where the two of you were – perhaps in any other situation he would have gladly landed a soft kiss on your lips, but here it was too dangerous. You would be ridiculed enough for being alone with a boy, and if anyone knew that said boy was Newt Scamander you’d be excommunicated _. How inappropriate_ …he reminded himself, though holding you so close had never felt better.

But you were oblivious to his inner turmoil, you always were. Careless and brash, the two things you have consistently shown through the months he had known you came to play even now. Without a second thought you leaned in and landed a kiss on the corner of his lips, closing your eyes as if to hide away from your own shame. His only response was to turn uncomfortably stiff, not even his fingers dared to quiver. You released a pent up breath on the side of his neck and it slid down his spine in a tingling shiver. The bedroom fell completely still. His reaction was prompted by instinct rather than rational thought, and with a silent moment of hesitation he came to capture you in a kiss that was driven my more than simple affection. It sent a spark; making your grip his shoulders as in a fluent manner you moved your lips against his. His hand came to rest on the side of your neck as his thumb caressed your cheek.  A groan came from him, his whole body vibrating to yours and you gasped.

The light flickered on and is if burned Newt pushed you away. In a haze you saw his face, dotted with red spots and thin lines of worry as he intently stared at the curtain. An idle sound of a glass clanking rung out in the bedroom. All fell shut again, along with the oil lamp. Newt finally manged to look at you, his fingers coming to hold your hands as he said, “ _You must leave, now_.”

“ _But Newt—“_

“ _Now, (Name)….Please…For if you don’t I_ ….” His forehead came to rest on yours, a soft smile blooming on his lips as he closed his eyes. A flicker of conflict; his lips fell shut and a released an amused huff of air, shaking his head gently. “ _Tell me that you will go, you will go despite what I may say_.” Instinctively, his fingers tightened around your hands. The rush did not die down, but slowly you nodded, and through a daze you murmured.

“ _I will go now, if that is what you wish_.”

He didn’t want you to go, on the contrary he wanted you to stay more than he wanted anything else in this world but couldn’t bring himself to speak. His voice was caught somewhere down his throat when he took in your appearance – a flock of dishevelled (color) hair and lidded (color) eyes that stared at him so it was hard to pull away. But he did. And with one last wistful look, still unsure, you dipped your leg out into the coolness of the room. Prying the curtain open you were met with darkness, and carefully positioning yourself on the wooden floorboard and praying they will not creek you stood up, still hazy.

How you got out the Hufflepuff chambers was a mystery as you stood by the portrait of the Fat Lady and muttered a password, your heart still dancing to the melody of his kiss. A sweet dazed smile pulled at the corners of your cheeks as you replayed the moment in your mind over and over again like a broken record. Even when you pulled the sheets close to your chest the only thing that you could dream of were those gentle green eyes that turned dark for the briefest of moments fueled by nothing but raw desire.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> teens...hormones....oh my!  
> hope yall enjoyed this new(t) chapter! cuz you're only getting another in 2017! <3 (which is like 2 days away so whatever)  
> on a side note, only two more chapters left before we finish this...damn. will kinda miss writing this :(  
> thank you everyone for the comments and kudos and sharing! hope you have a great holiday. love you all  
> xx


	10. Do not forget me.

_“Go go Gryffindor! Go go Gryffindor!”_

The red lodge threw their hands up, roaring applause and approval once their team scored. Both Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff raised their flags in cheer – Slytherin was losing, and everyone seemed to approve but the house itself. Leroy threw his fist up in triumph, a grin spreading on his face as Eveline’s excited voice rang out in the Quidditch Pitch.

“Ten point’s to Gryffindor! _Fantastic throw_ , Miss Day!” She cheered.

The harsh wind bruised your sides, your fingers frosting over as they grasped the glossy and cold length of the broom, a red cloak with the beautiful symbol of a golden lion floating in the air. You were a few levels above the game, watching intently and clapping ever so often once your team scored, but otherwise you hardly moved. Only when a bludger would head your way, but even that was a rare case since the rival team was too preoccupied with the quaffle to pay any attention to the Seeker hoovering above them. You spun a few laps, your teeth chattering as white smoke came out your parted lips. A shrill went down your spine, and gripping the broom tighter you once again swept the scenery for a golden glimmer.

“Looks like Miss (Lastname) isn’t having any luck with the snitch! But Cornelius Longford seems just as lost!” Eveline’s voice rang out again, “Though, I would bet my money on (Lastn—“

“Miss de’Bach, _please_ , no unnecessary comments.”

“Apologies professor!— _And_ they’re off! Another ten for Gryffindor!”

“ _Go go Gryffindor! Go go Gryffindor_!”

Somewhere below, in the sea of yellow scarves and flags, Newt Scamander watched your form with balled fists, carefully examining your every move. He’d jump and curse under his breath once a bludger aimed for your head would shoot to you, but skilfully you’d avoid it and continued on. Just then, as he took in a sigh of relief when another bludger was steered clear, you shot down like a bullet and for a heart stopping moment he thought the pesky ball hit you.

You were quick to level the broom, drifting past two Slytherin beaters and swiftly turning left to the Ravenclaw lodge, “Looks like (Lastname) has noticed the snitch! Longford is hot on her tail!” You snapped your head back for only for a moment – through the rapidly changing scenery you saw a green blur and a displeased, though determined, face right behind you. The wind howled in your ears, sweat breaking out to heat your cold skin. Your hand extended, the dark leather spotted with frost, as your fingers quivered to reach the small spurring ball. Pushing forward you gritted your teeth – just a smidge, _just a bit more_ \---!

A deafening silence settled in theQuidditch pitch.

“(Lastname) has caught the snitch! One-hundred fifty points to Gryffindor! _Gryffindor wins_!”

~*~

You waved bye to your friends, begging for a quick break as you broke apart on the third floor corridor. As you trotted your sides hurt from laughing, cheeks stinging from the bright smile that even then did not leave your face. Your hair, now closely resembling a bids nest poked you in the eyes and tickled the back of your neck, but you did not mind. Taking off the leather gloves you gently caressed the bright red spots and newly formed wounds. The power and glory from the victory made them beautiful, proof of your hard work and great achievements. With high spirits you pushed the door to the girl’s bathroom open.

It was empty here and completely silent. The faraway echoes of voices were drowned once the door shut behind you. Resting your gloves on the edge of the porcelain sink, you turned the faucet and let submerged you trembling hands in warm water, releasing a sigh of relief. Finding your own gaze in the mirror you couldn’t help but grin yet again, an idea popping into your head – might as well find Scamander since you were already away from the partying bunch.

The door opened and closed again, but you didn’t pay any mind to it, only rubbing away specs of snow, dirt and sweat from your face and hair. The lock clicked. Confused, you turned to the entrance.

One…two…three. She stood on the third step, her piercing gaze lancing you in place. Shoulders stiff she didn’t dare to move, setting with just watching you like a curious animal, and distraught you turned the faucet off. Besides her rapid breath, which she soon swallowed, no other sound was present. An uneasy, nervous smile pinched at the corners of your cheeks, something pooling in your stomach and making it squirm.

“You are Newt’s friend, am I correct?” You asked, trying to befriend her. Taking a step forward, you tried to ease the growing tension with a grin, “Leta Lestrange, am I correct?”

Leta gave you no answer, only her jaw locked, the look in her eyes making you falter – was it disgust?

“Can…Can I help you?” You tried again.

“I know what you are.” She hissed. The look of confusion pulled on your features, and she scoffed, “Do not try to pretend, (Lastname). Newt may not see it, but _I do_. What _you are_. What _your friends are_. You are not what you pretend to be.” Leta spat, her leg dropping down a step, “Sweet innocent little (Name) (Lastname). No one would ever believe me if I told them of what you do in your spare time. Your weekly trips to the _Forbidden Forrest_? The others may not notice, but I do.” Another step, “If they were to see a cloud of black smoke, the beasts you conjure…No one would believe you meant harm. You are just so… _pure_.” Her feet landed on the tiles, “It’s just (Name). She couldn’t hurt a fly--- **_well I beg to differ!_** I have _seen_ what you can do. What magic you play with…it is not supposed to be toyed with, _you blithering idiot_!” Her brows knitted together in frustration, her voice rising in tone but it suddenly fell flat, “I would not care about any of this, (Lastname), if Newt was not my friend.”

“I would never hurt Newt.” You suddenly found your voice, anger rising in your chest as you frowned and glared, “I would never hurt _anyone_.”

“I’ve seen what your friends do. They pick on the little. Thrive on making them suffer. How are you any different? Do not lie to me, (Lastname). You are just as bad as them.”

“They are good people—“

“ **NO THEY ARE NOT**. Setting shoes of fire of the helpless ones? Hexing the shy ones? Spilling potions, causing a ruckus and disrupting the lives of those who just wish to have some peace and quiet—“

“Those are pranks, Leta, little day to day mischief has never hurt anyone.” You argued, “ _My friends_ would never hurt anyone. Completely harmless! Jokes, Leta, _jokes_!” She merely shook her head at you.

“And Newton…He lives in hell because of you, _because you_ picked him as a target for your friends to shoot at.” She growled, “And I will never forgive you for that.” Her hand suddenly shot to her wand, in an instant it was between her fingers. You followed quickly, but before you could open your mouth, bright red sparks shot the Chestnut out your hand. It tattered and landed on the tiles, rolling under the sink.

“ _Leta_ —“

“ _You put him in danger_.” She said through gritted teeth, the end of her wand now pointed directly at you. “You are the reason he’s changing.”

“ _Leta please_ —“

“You say you are no good with charms and hexes, but I will let you in on a little secret _– I am_.” She inhaled, almost afraid of what she was about to say or do, “And _I_ \--…” A moment of hesitation, a glimmer of false hope on your part, “ _And I am_ absolutely _brilliant_ with memory spells. He may remember you, but you have _no right to_ … **hurt** him anymore.” Your face paled, bones locking together and unwilling to move. Your dry lips parted to speak but no sound came out, only sheer terror as you gazed into her cold eyes and tried to find an ounce of empathy.

Suddenly heart spurred in your chest, “No.” You rasped, shaking your head as if to dismiss the thought all together, “ _No_ , Leta, you cannot do this, this is more than just against the rules it is illegal—“

“You and Newton aren’t the only ones who aren’t afraid to burn a few bridges. I know of your trip to the Black Lake. That most certainly was illegal as well.” She told, “And for what it is worth…No one will know. I doubt your friends will mind you ignoring Newton. If you look at it from a different perspective…I am doing you a favour.”

In a moment of sheer panic as her wand twirled you shot to the side, avoiding bright green sparks. They hit the edge of a pipe, making water spring through the crack. Another spell cast one going over your head. Footsteps. Frantic, you rushed to the stalls, this time a spell hitting a nearby wall. You squeaked. Circling, your eyes glazed over the quickly flooding bathroom – _your wand_! It stayed put where you had dropped it, and in the heat of adrenaline and sheer primal survival instinct you dashed for it, your body hitting the ground and splashing – your breath left your lungs as you gasped, your clothes soaking. Grabbing your wand you pointed it at the red cheeked Leta and then the door opened.

_Minutes earlier…._

Newt Scamander paced down the hallway in search of you. A friendly batch of Ravenclaws had informed him that you were heading for the lady rooms, and naturally he could not go there, but he could at least wait outside. Or would that be strange? For a moment he pondered, but still found himself stepping up the stairs to the third floor.

The whole Quidditch match he was too focused on his inner turmoil. He hadn’t properly asked you out yet, and it was slowly eating him inside. Why didn’t he do it? His mother would freak if she knew! What kind of gentleman dares hold a girls hand, and steal kisses, and not even question was it all consensual. Of course it was, but the rules were the rules and some weren’t meant to be broken. It was highly ungentlemanly on his part.

He smiled. He wanted the two of you to be together officially. He wanted to hold your hand in front of the masses and feel safe and secure – with you he felt as if he could conquer the world. And he will ask you today. Right now, he decided. Perhaps it wasn’t the most romantic of places and he was to at least birth some flowers with a spell.

The pleasant daydream was interrupted by a loud crash coming from down the hall. Lines of worry pulled on his brows and with a faster pace he approached the heavy door from which the noises came. _Was this not_?...Concerned, he pulled on the handle but it did not open. Yanking out his wand he pointed at the lock, “ _Alohomora_ ’ it clicked open and he pushed the door.

A spring of magic tightened your muscles, practically radiating out of your pores and coming straight from the very centre of your chest – a warm stream of energy that dashed all the way to your fingertips as you held up the silly Chestnut wand, no spell escaping your lips as you narrowed your irises and they flashed with a dangerous glint. Bright red fire erupted from the end, shooting upwards and swallowing the ceiling as it grew with such might all mirrors and windows crashed, a wave of energy rippling through the air and knocking the breath out of your lungs. The fire grew into a lion, the winds ruffling your hair as it roared, the spell prickling at your skin. The heat turned up and it was almost as if you were breathing flames.

Leta took a terrified step back, her eyes wide with awe and fear as the wand nearly slipped out her fingers. Your hand quivered. The tip of your wand split, red magic like blood filling the cracks. With a heated breath you pulled and twirled the meek wood, cutting off the string of flames. “ _Ocairo_!” You gasped. The fierce lion was sucked into the air almost an instant into a small black ball that swallowed itself a minute later, leaving but glittering sharp glass and running water at its wake. The shrill of magic trembled the whole school, and for a fleeting moment you wondered if anyone would come screaming. The bathroom fell void of voices. Your breathing laboured, feeling drained the colours of the world darkened and you exhaled hard, your shoulder slumping and you lowered your head. All heat was gone and now you were left feeling cold to the bone as freezing water soaked your uniform. A sudden sharp inhale made you flinch. Leta, snapping out of shock, without a second thought screamed, “ _Sectumsempra_!”

“ ** _NO_**!”

Music from an old record player started to echo in the damp air, cracking and lynching off synch. Or perhaps it was dead quiet, only the loop of a melody playing in your head. With a  wheezing gasp your body hit the ground, the spell, like a million small knifes sliced through your skin and insides, pain filling your lungs and pores as with a shudder your eyes rolled up to stare at the white spinning ceiling.

“O- _Oh God_ —“ a gasp from somewhere far away reached you as a distorted cry, splashes of cold water spatting on your cheeks as the water around you bloomed red in a pretty circle. In the corner of your vision you noted strands of fiery hair and strained green eyes trying to catch your vision, but you couldn’t turn away. Warm hands tingled on your burning skin. You choked the smell or iron and its disgusting taste springing salty tears.

“(NAME)! YOU FREAK, WHAT DID YOU DO?!”

“ _Professor_! Someone fetch the professor!”

The song did not stop playing. It all almost seemed like a bad joke, a terrible play and soon the curtains would close. Your eyes dropped too heavy to keep open. Someone gently tapped on your cheek. The pain became numbing.

“---an… _accident_ -“

“ _MOVE!_ OUT THE WAY! WHO DID THIS?! WAS IT YOU--…You…. _Scamander_ …Expelled, you freak _!—(Name)!_ Stay with us!---he-,…”

…

..

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello everyone! one more chapter to go! and yes, if you have guessed correctly, Newt gets expelled because he takes the blame. rip  
> also, the name of this chapter will have meaning in the next...  
> anyway, i just wanted to drop in and leave a quick note....the finale is gonna be much longer  
> thank you all for all the kudos and kind words <3  
> love you xx


	11. Fireworks.

> Golden years ago in a mill beside the sea.  
>  There dwelt a little maiden, who plighted her faith to me;

_The Maid of the Mill. I remember it clearly now, as if it was only yesterday it had happened. The cracking of the old record player, the melodious though haunting voice and the same repetitive circus tone. Then it all sprays with colour, the black and white memory, as if someone were to drop paint into a clear glass of water. And I’m falling; my back hits the ground and I shatter by my own spell. I heard it then, but perhaps only this many years past do I understand why._

> The mill-wheel now is silent, the maid's eyes closed be,  
>  And all that now remains of her are the words she sang to me:

_I remember being a small child and dancing to it in my family’s living room, just like my mother had danced before me at her wedding._

> Do not forget me, do not forget me!

_And I know now why I heard it then, as my own life was running behind my eyelids like tears. I have dreamed and craved to do as my mother did on that fateful day. I wished for it to be my song. And at the time I felt like I could never realize my dream. Laying in the pool of my own blood I felt like I had lost much more than my life. That that was the end, my end. And in a way it was. Along with my shattered wand, something else broke too. That child-like wonder he loved me for so._

////

**_New York, 1926_ **

_(Name) (Lastname), born 1898 xx xx and is considered to be one of the brightest witch of her time, has gone missing. The War hero and inventor of Fiendfyre has been last seen on her trip to Peru, from which, she as sources say, vanished. Apparition was impossible, Auror Leroy Ambrose says, since the disappeared into one of the world’s most magical places in the world – Machu Picchu -  which is guarded by strong anti-apparition spells. More? Read on page 11._

Along with a lovely photograph of a woman smiling into a camera as it flashed over her face was the said paragraph Newt Scamander’s eyes glazed over, worry pulling on his heartstrings as an old, forgotten flame sparked in his chest. He inhaled, taking a step closer and tilting his head to the side to get a better look at the picture – the newspaper laid sideways on the already cluttered table, and as he was about to reach it—

“What are you looking at?”

“ _Oh_ …oh _uhm_ , nothing.” He blurred, “Nothing at all.”

Porpentina Goldstein, behind her desk, slumped her shoulders with a curt sigh and looked back at the papers in her hand, “Do you have a wand permit, Mister Scamander?”

“ _Wh_ -yes, yes I do.” He nodded, unruly, “Say,” he took a step closer, making the girl blink, “Do you know of…” his eyes wandered back to the photograph and for a second he was lost in thought. Porpentina followed his gaze, raising a brow and failing to see how any of this was relevant to the situation at hand.

“(Lastname)? Of course I know her, everyone knows her.” She told, scribbling on her paper, “She’s a legend.”

…

…

…

The air was chillingly cold, or perhaps it was just him, trembling. With eyes wide and filled with pain he stared at Percival with disbelieve and horror, then shifting to the side once they caught of something much more important. By Graves’s side sat a woman, too close to be just another acquaintance, yet too stiff to be a close friend. Newton didn’t recognise her; the council seemed to move in slow motion as their gazes met for the one and only time. His heart betrayed a strange jump when the connection sparked. In his mind surfaced a painful, suppressed memory of dazed (color) eyes and untamed forest of playful curls, young dewy skin, blushed and apple-sweet with lips that tasted like honey suckles after the rain. Her name in his mind, one he read on the newspaper just yesterday, echoed in his earlobe. Soon the illusion broke  as a scream, blood stinging and hurt, pierced his chest along with a horrid flash of red.

Newt gulped and quickly collected himself, more confused than distraught. It all fell into place then, the overwhelming fear of what was to happen to him and his creatures. He didn’t dare linger on the memory; in fact he was ashamed it appeared so suddenly in such a bad timing. Why? He did not want to worry over it not now, not ever. He pushed himself to reality as his eyes filled with opalescent tears and he begged, “ _Please_ , you don’t understand, nothing in there is dangerous.”

…

…

…

It was deadly silent in his office, only the clicking of short heels and Tina’s sniffles bounced off the walls now ten times louder. The unfamiliar woman that sat next to Percival was here too, circling the table and watching Newt shift in his seat, his eyes boring into the paper in Graves’s hands. He had caught her staring a couple of times, gaze sharp and precise like a lion’s; again she walked as stiff as she sat, head held high in authority. She must’ve been an important figure…but why does it matter? Why does _she_ matter? And why was she staring so intently?

Newton met her gaze as she stood behind Percival Grieves, her dark iris glimmering in the dim light with raw emotion, but what it was he couldn’t tell. Newt thought he’d look away first, but it was in fact the woman that glanced to Tina before he could grasp onto what she was trying to say. The silence stretched; Newt tapped his foot – a sign of cracking nerves no doubt – as Graves finally decided to acknowledge him.

“What I want to know is…What Albus Dumbledore saw in you.”

…

…

…

The metro was cold and the dust floating in the air made him choke. Newt coughed, raising his hand up as if that would help stop Grave’s from shooting a spell. Behind him Tina found it hard to stand, sinking into the debris and hurting her feet. A zap of wind and his skin prickled, snapping his head to the side he caught a snipped of a traveling coat.

His eyes roamed forward, a tall figure standing in front of him as it raised its slim wand, pointing it directly at Percival Graves himself. The end of it lit up into magnificent bright red flames that grew in size, a ripple of heat and magic catching his breath and making his lungs blaze with fire. He marvelled at the growing beast, his heart stopping for a moment as he recognized the form of a fearless lion which roared and shook the roof. Newton recognized the tight braid of hair to belong to that stern woman he saw earlier, but what was she—

The gloom peeled off like paint, revealing curls of (color) hair hiding underneath and blotchy skin regained its colour. He could not see her face, but he knew who she was, who stood before him confident and wordless firing a spell. It was soon cut off, just like last time he had seen it, eating itself into a small black bubble that disappeared a second later leaving unnerving silence behind. Graves, taken aback by the sudden appearance, soon scowled and sliced with his wand. One elegant turn of her wrist was all it took and a flock of crumbling debris shielded her, turning to dust but giving her just enough time to fire a pale blue spell as she took a step forward. It snaked around the official, like rope, tying him down and immobilizing him as it squeezed at the pressure points.

Loud footfalls could be heard from above, and still unable to move Newton watched the female figure stride forward, hop onto the platform and crouch to examine the face of the man. The pads of her fingers traced his cheek, drawing symbols but of what he couldn’t say. Finally, the cavalry arrived and the woman, snapping her neck to the coming aurors stood and Newt could finally see her in her full glory.

Your left cheek held a shallow cut; no doubt you were battling in the city before coming here to aid them. You stood by the hunched over Graves, not daring to even lance Newton’s way. His mouth fell agape.

“Miss (Lastname),” Madame President stalked over, displeased, “should’ve known it was you.”

“It is always me, Seraphina” Your voice was playful, but held this distinctive sweet tone that made it appear staged. You smiled, unnaturally, kindly, but that kindness never reached your (colour) eyes, “Surprised it took you this long to figure it out.”

“You broke into MACUSA.”

“Me and rules…Never got along.” You replied, dispatching the slim Alder wand, “You should know better than anyone else.”

“I should pull you in for charges.”

You raised a finger at her, almost comical “Ah, yes, you should, but you won’t. The paperwork is on your table, signed by the British Minister of Magic. Official duty you see, top secret, could not drop by for a drink but I will kindly take you up on that offer once we’re done here.”

He watched with a mix of shock and strange disgust – the scene full of banter was clay like, almost appearing as a bad play had bought a ticket to ogle at. Your smooth features were as if bewitched – every remark had a fast paced answer, which was not like you, never like you. Unnatural. Plastic. The interaction was lively, but not life like.

Newt called your name, his voice cracking at the last syllable as hopeful he watched the actress facade crumble. The first genuine emotion blossomed in those doe eyes as they connected – his heart jumped in his chest as a brief second of happiness washed over him like a wave. But like a machine, the wheels fell into motion and your face twisted from surprise and even remorse to the same inhuman smoothness.

“It has been too long, Newton.” You finally said voice even and low, losing all coyness and sounding strange coming from smiling lips. You turned back to Seraphina, as if he was not there anymore. In turn Newt felt untamed sudden anger rise in his chest and he took a shaky step forward, calling out again as if afraid you’d fade away like a summer dream. You didn’t respond, though, instead fixing last business with the President about Grindewald.

“Wall then,” You said after a short conversation, sending a wary glance at the blonde haired wizard, “I best be on my way now.”

“You know I can’t let you go.” She said, serious. You recoiled. Lastly, you nodded, again, scripted. Your eyes swept the ground and flashed to Newt Scamander, still waiting for you to notice him, “I guess I have no other choice but to go…” You winked, then hurriedly turning back to Madame, “Shall w—“

You evaporated.

…

…

…

“You never talked to me, despite my numerous and failed advances…I never even got to properly complain about you taking the blame for what she had done. Ever the kind, you are. Though, I suppose it was my fault as well. I should have been more careful, more aware of my surroundings…” You faltered, “In the end it was I who frightened Leta enough to bite back.”

A heavy silence settled between the two of you, despite the pub brewing with life. Music, specifically jazz, played, beautiful women eyeing men and flirting each chance they got. Two glasses, both empty, were on your table. It was hot here, hot enough for you to lose your jacket and Newt couldn’t help but stare at your exposed shoulders and the delicate arch of your neck. He gulped, looking down into his intertwined hands.

“You changed.” He told, the pads of his fingers coming to graze the edge of the small glass. You shrugged.

“War changes everyone…” You said, quieter.

Jacob Kowalski’s bright grin flashed in his mind, “Not everyone.”

“Then only me.” There was a smile in your voice, he could tell and in turn he let a loopy grin slip onto his lips before he pulled it down. “Why did you avoid me, Newton?”

“ _I_ thought…I thought it was best if _we-we-we_ stopped” His green irises found yours, “seeing each other all together, that is. I… _I thought that_ …That after what happened…You wouldn’t want to see me.”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“But it _was_ my friend.”

“Hardly matters in the end,” You told, “I know you…You must’ve been ashamed or something silly like that… _All this time, wasted…_ ” you added, more to yourself than him as you leaned onto the table, successfully breaking some distance between your bodies, “I don’t think I’ve changed that much.” You told, a ghost of a smile tilting the corners of your lips as your eyes twinkled in the smoky lights, “I just think you haven’t changed a bit.”

“Well, I still have my suave charm.”

“ _Oh_ do you ever.”

“Isn’t MACUSA looking for you?”

“Don’t tell me that is going to stop you?” You coyly raised a brow, “The danger is part of the fun, after all.”

“I never could resist an adventure.”

“With yours truly, no doubt.”

“You give yourself too much credit.”

You shook your shoulders with a cheerful grin, “Credit must be given where credit is due. I must admit, though…I did not expect you to reach out to me.”

“Perhaps I simply wanted to show you something.”

“Last time you did I ended up in your suitcase.”

“Do you want to again?”

“Cannot say no to such an invitation.”

…

He pulled the curtain open and his form was flooded with warm sunlight, sounds of rustling leafs, howling wind and oinks and stomps of various creatures reaching the small cabinet you found yourself in. He had lost his jacket when you entered this warm space of his magical suitcase, neatly hanging it on a chair along with your coat. The smell of herbs and dirt tickled your nose and with a curious step you followed after him. Your mouth fell agape, eyes growing wide as small reflections of stars started to shine in them; caught in awe your feet took you forward but spun and twirled as you took in each and every inch of this pure creation. Creatures you have never even dreamed about poked their heads out to see the visitor, or leisurely continued their precious work of hiding in grass or rolling some tree branches for a den. A warm breeze tickled your skin and it blushed. As you tried to keep up with the whole ecosystem you released an amazed laugh, slapping your palms over your lips to stop a squeal.

Meanwhile he watched, watched and realized that you haven’t changed after all. He grinned, pride striking him and he straightened his back, overly pleased. Making you happy brought no greater joy. He had almost forgotten this feeling. Almost. But it surfaced again, kept safe in his subconscious before it could emerge and infatuate him again. Everything about you was enticing and only after all this time he realized. His jaw tensed and he glanced at the swaying flower heads – so much time he had wasted. A cold hand squeezed his heart, but he gulped those bitter feelings down.

_But some things are not broken, some simply cannot be. They are just forgotten, drowned by misery into the deepest caves of our minds. And all you need is to remember. A spark, like a firework or a glint of beautiful spell. Or much simpler than that, one gleam of your true loves gaze can awaken the things one thinks they have lost._

Little talk was exchanged as you opted to wander and explore what he had built, playing with the creatures and feeding some. You dirtied your knees and hands in the process, accidentally smearing some dirt on your cheek as you tried to wipe away the moistness forming on its tender skin. You seemed so emerged he didn’t want to disturb you; and so you worked in silence, together, harmoniously.

It wasn’t until you stumbled to a small shack, opening the damp wooden door and coughing as a cloud of dust blew on you. Your eyes glazed over the cabinets, in search of some treats, but what caught your gaze was not edible. You recognised the outline of your face and passing the threshold you tilted your head to the side, fingers gripping the newspaper as you brought it to your face.

_(Name) (Lastname), born 1898 xx xx and is considered to be one of the brightest witch of her time, has gone missing._

_“_ I was worried about you.” Newt spoke up from behind you, making you jerk and turn to him. His form was leaned on some boxed, shoulder slumped, his gaze lazy and his hair a mess – he was tired, you conducted, “ _I_ …” a splash of energy prompted a rosy tint on his cheeks, “I always… _worried_ about you.” He gulped, shyly glancing away and scratching the back of his neck, “I’m…I’m sorry, (Name). I’m sorry I wasn’t there.” His words caused you to inhale, every happy thought that previously swam in your mind erased, leaving you blank and motionless. Noticing the sudden shift he pushed himself to stand straight, “They…they didn’t pick you to find Grindewald, am I correct?” Your head bobbed, stiffly. Newt’s face turned soft, sad and pitying, “I should’ve been there…with you.”

You neatly folded the newspaper back and put it where you found it. It was enough time to collect yourself, and fixing a pained smile, that lasted for a second if not less, you crossed your arms over your chest and looked at him again, “You were right.” You murmured, “ _War_ …War doesn’t change people. It’s the loss that does.” Your voice trembled and you gulped, stepping out the shack, “Not sure if you remember him or not, but… Out of all of my friends, only Leroy survived…And I am grateful for that. Just that. Asking more would be greedy.” Eyes stinging you rubbed them with the hilt of your palm, trying not to infect them. Taking in a calming breath you continued, “I have made peace with it.” You found his gaze, “You should too. You are here now, and that is all that matters.”

Newt seemed to think, the corner of his lips cracking into a smile as he softly shook his head as if recalling a memory, “You know…I never…Never asked you out, properly.” You released an amused huff, “See, that day…That day when…When Leta hexed you... I was there because I wanted to. _To_ ask you out, that is.” Any previous turmoil of pain was snuffed clean as you felt a spur of joy light up your world, “I planned to stand there, by the door to the girls bathroom and wait for you with a bouquet of flowers and well, improvise, I suppose.”

“You are lying.”

“I’m afraid no, not this time.”

You laughed, thought it was a bit dry by the lingering hurt, but it was real. Nothing about you seemed plastic now. “And…I know this…this is, well…Highly inconsiderate and.. _uhm_..” He started, lamely, shyly approaching you “B—“

“Please do not tell me you are going to apologize for kissing me ten years ago.”

Newt faltered, smiling sheepishly, “ _N-No_ …not apologize. I was actually… _I_ …” He licked his lower lip, eyes rolling over the room as if to catch an idea on how to convey his words, “I was actually wondering if you…if you would…If you would allow me to be selfish once more and…” Your fingers brushed the fringe of fiery hair from his eyes tenderly. You smiled, lovingly.

Here it was that familiar sweet scent that left your heart racing as your thoughts rushed at an equal pace. It hardly felt as if a day had passed since you’ve last seen him, all those bittersweet memories now playing in your mind like an animated movie, and if the look in his eyes betrayed anything is that he was feeling the same. He stepped closer, or was it you, you did not care. Finally, he was close enough to touch, to feel the heat of his body caress your own. Your hand landed on his chest, near his heart and you felt it beat. Newt pressed forward, catching himself at just the right moment – if you wished to pull away now was the only and perfect time to do so. But you didn’t, instead your lips parted to inhale a frail breath with a weak gasp that did nothing but encourage him. His hand came to rest on the side of your jaw and he felt you quiver. He gulped. His thumb caressed your dewy rosy cheek, gliding over a thin scar – a battle wound – and making it tingle. At last he leaned in, unable to hold himself. The proximity became dizzying as your noses brushed. Anticipation prickled your skin. Your world drowned in velvet darkness as he kissed you and what was to be a gentle show of love turned raw with passion .

...

_The chorus of people settles and the heavy door creeks open. I am flooded with beautiful fairy lights and a velvet sky above me, irritated by stars and an obnoxiously big moon. I hold in my breath and tremble – though I am fairly sure I am not the only one – as I feel myself spur with excitement and contagious joy. The pleasant air bites at my skin and I shiver – my eyes land on him, standing by the aisle and waiting for me almost fearful, as if I could change my mind and run away._

_Instead of the cliché wedding march an old record player croaks to life and I cannot be any happier. A familiar melody floods the hall and I feel like I am dreaming. I take a shy step forward, as if to make sure this was all real. It is._

_My father, behind me, follows suit and links his arms with mine. I see my mother as I pass, staring at my wide eyed and teary; somewhere in the crowd I glimpse at Leroy silently cheering at the perfect moment. But nevertheless, despite my father, the spite the whole reception following the bride I cannot help but awe at the groom. He stands confident as I draw closer, his fiery hair glimmering in the beautiful lights. Newton’s hand reached for mine as we stop, and my father, given the nod, squeezes my hand tightly as if to say goodbye – I smile, though hold a tear. My fingers link around Newton’s and he helps me step up to stand next to him. The bouquet of flowers itches in my dewy palm._

_Newt catches his breath, trying to bite down a goofy smile but it still pinches at his cheeks and he gives up, grinning with brilliant radiance and I have the most sudden of urges to kiss him right there and then._

_“Dearly beloved, we are gathering here to…” It is a bit silly, perhaps inappropriate to admit that I heard nothing the preacher said, nor did I care for any word of it. What mattered to me were the gentle link between us, intertwined with our hands, a link of rings and hearts and red strings. I love you, is the only thing that dances in my mind as I gaze at him, and if I know him well his thoughts mimic mine._

_Our vows go by quick, filled with small laughs from the audience and Newton’s awkward blinks that go along with a rosy blush. I, of course, am no better – forgot my lines and repeated them with a stutter. He didn’t mind, though. I do like to believe he thought it was cute._

_“…I pronounce you husband and wife. Newton, you may kiss the bride.” And this was the very sentence the guests, us included, were waiting with baited breath. Newt turns to me, admiring me for one last second before he reaches closer and I follow suit. We meet half way and kiss. The crowd behind us cheers and somewhere above us I hear fireworks greet the night’s sky._

**_THE END._ **

****

_**BONUS:** _

_“Now listen here, Scamander. (Name) is a precious little flower and if I find out, you hear me, if I find out that you are treating her badly there will be consequences, son.”_

_“Oh, husband!” Miss (Lastname) shuffled, hitting her man with her white gloves. The said man loosened his grip on Newt’s shoulder; the wizard gulped, loudly at that, “Do not mind him, Newton, he’s all talk and no bite.” She winked, “Welcome to the family.”_

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tada! Fin! Thank you everyone for joining on this adventure. I hope you enjoyed it even to the end. Do I plan on writing more of Newt x Reader stories? I'm open to the idea, though it would be couple of chapters at best. I want to focus on other things now. That being said, I will still write for Harry Potter forever, so look forward to that.  
> Happy ending, sigh...Me and my surprises.  
> See you in the next story! xx


	12. Young Love (Valentines special!)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a very late valentines day special that i had posted on my tumblr for a while and forgot to re-post here...enjoy!

> The dungeons held a strong scent of mold and dry herbs- most likely due to the damp walls – and you scrunched your nose displeased. You never liked the smell, and by the looks of it neither did Kevin – his normally friendly expression was twisted with annoyance as he stood beside you near the entrance of the class. _Potions._ Whilst Eveline was rejoicing somewhere near Leroy and clapping her lashes as she awed at the array of potions the professor was showing off, your gaze wandered to the very end of the line where a patch of yellow decked Hufflepuff’s stood curiously watching the presentation.
> 
> Your eyes caught an awkward student with fiery hair that glimmered in the faint light. Newt Scamander wore a soft frown: his brows were kitted in concentration, dew dotting his forehead, as he grasped the leather crested tomb in his hand, just like the rest of students watching the professor show the liquids swirling in silver and glass containers. Suddenly, as if feeling your eyes on him, his gaze shifted to you. You grinned. Newt smiled back shyly before shifting from foot to foot and glancing away with a light rosy blush blooming over his cheeks.

A sweet scent settled in the room and you blinked, feeling your heart spur in your chest. Your fingertips tingled and you snapped back to the professor, catching beautiful light pink fumes spiraling into the air and melting into the walls behind him.

“Can anyone tell me what this potion is?” The professor asked. Eveline’s hand shot up like a bullet. The professor, how ever, only gave her a once over and moved away from Gryffindor all together, “ _Anyone_? Anyone at all? How about you, Mister Scamander?” The invitation took the class by surprise. With a pleased grin, the professor waved Newt over, “Come on now, do not be shy! Step closer.” You smiled faintly as you watched Newt look around, as if expecting to find someone else with the same name, before finally shuffling out of the crowd. His head was tilted softly, lips nervously twitching as he took in a calming breath of air.

“ _A_ -Amortentia, sir.” He said, “The most powerful love potion in the world.” An array of whispers, mostly from girls, riddled the confined space of the classroom. You would be lying if you said you weren’t curious as well. Newt gulped, visibly at that, “ _I-_ It is said that…it carries a scent that is different to each person…To attract their interest. For me personally it is…” his tone shifted to low almost dream like, “The wind…honeysuckles and…” his cheeks flared, ears stinging from heat and he did not finish, instead quickly retreated to the safe haven of his classmates. For a brief moment the class was quiet.

“Wonderful, Mister Scamander.” The professor said, “Ten points to Hufflepuff! Though, allow me correct you on this. Though Amortentia is a ‘love’ potion, what it creates can hardly be called love. It is more of an obsession, a _very_ powerful illusion…So much so that merely a drop of it can cause intense infatuation. Therefore, it is safe to consider it to be the most dangerous potion in this classroom.” He shut the clasp and the scent faded. You shook yourself awake, “Creating it is illegal. I did it for academic purposes, of course, but I will not be teaching it to you. Be warned that if any of you are caught possessing it you can be sure expulsion awaits you. _Now,_ ” he clapped and rubbed his hands together with an excited grin, “to your seats, everyone! We will work on creating….” His words were nearly drowned by the booming chatter as the class scattered to their tables, all eagerly discussing the new information with an excited squeal. You caught Newton’s gaze as you were roughly seated by a faraway table by Eveline, but did not hold it for much longer since she blocked the view.  
  


~*~

Scooted close, you and Newt sat by the _Black Lake_ away from pesky eyes and enjoyed the occasional breeze of cool wind in completely silence. You watched the smooth surface of the lake gently caress the coast line. It was cold. Your hands were tugged into knitted gloves, the heavy coat warming your body as the bucket hat provided some sort of protection from snowflakes that just started to fall. You hummed, pulling your limbs closer together in an effort to stay warm.

The tip of his nose was red, his beautiful evergreen eyes gazing into the distance as a shy smile played on his lips – he seemed deep in thought, though, perhaps re-living the memory of the two of you foolishly diving into the very depths of the lake and marvelling at its creatures. You smiled; it seemed so long ago, your relationship had grown at such a rapid pace that you did not even notice how time flew by.

Your mind then drifted back to the _Potions_ lesson that took place a couple of hours before you two got to break away from the crowds of students and enjoy each other’s company at peace. The _Amortentia_ potion. And Newt’s explanation. Curiosity prompted you to glance at him again, your smile falling just a bit as you spoke, “Newton…” at the mention of his name he perked, “About what you said in class…About the potion.” You clarified. Newt blinked, clearing his throat and shyly dropping his head as the tips of his ears started to flame. “Why did you say wind?” the genuine curiosity in your voice took him aback – not that he was expecting you to laugh at him (you’d never do so), but some sort of teasing was expected. Noting the conflict you leaned in just a bit, “does this chilly breeze have a sort of scent I am not catching?”

Newt chuckled dryly and shook his head, “You see I… _Well_ , it… _It_ is more of…” He was struggling to find the right words that you could tell, “It is not the wind, _exactly_ …It is more of…How your hair smells once you get off your broom.”

Your heart jumped, a blush blooming over you cheeks and surpassing a pleased giggle. Examining his face for a moment, you let your eyes fall shut as you leaned in and met him half-way. A spark, bright as a firework, lit up your chest sending a tingle of joy through your whole body and warming your fingertips. The kiss was tender and quick and before you could memorize the feeling he pulled away. His nose gently rubbed yours and prying your eyes open you found his face still close, his gaze half lidded and dazed as he seemed to have trouble focusing on anything else but your lips. You grinned, “Ever the romantic, you are.”  Newt merely chuckle, stealing a kiss again before pulling away for good this time. His boldness was attractive, and you will have to remind him once he returns back into his shell. Still beaming you laid your head on his shoulder as his hand came to hold yours.


End file.
